Jane Allen, senior

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Jane Alien:

Senior

IS s ** t

By

Edith Bancroft

Author of

'Jane Allen of the Sub-Team/ "Jane

Allen: Right Guard," "Jane Allen:

Center, ' ' ' 'Jane A lien : Junior, ' * Etc.

Illustrated by

Thelma Gooch

New York

Cupples & Leon Company

373631K

JANE ALLEN SERIES

BY EDITH BANCROFT
Cloth. Price per Volume, $1.50 Net

JANE ALLEN OF THE SUB-TEAM
JANE ALLEN: RIGHT GUARD
JANE ALLEN: CENTER
JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR
JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

Other Volumes in preparation
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY,New York

COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

Jane Allen: Senior

Printed in U. S. A.

CONTENTS

-o

CHAPTER PAGE

I GROWING UP . . ................... 1

II FIELD WORKERS IN THE MAKING ...... 13

III THE HOPELESS CHEST .............. 25

IV Too YOUNG TO QUALIFY ............ 41

V A NOVEL NURSERY .............. ... 54

VI AN OFFICER OF THE LAW ............ 67

VII WHEN BABIES WAKE .......... ..... 79

VIII CURIOSITY AND THE GIRLS ........... 90

IX THE FIRST INTERVIEW .............. 100

X THE INTERESTING DISCOVERY ........

XI THE ADOPTION OF GRANDPA TODD. ...

XII DANNY McGoRRY's HOME RUN ...... 186

XIII A MOTHER'S CONFIDENCE ...... ..... 149

XIV A DANCE WITHIN A DANCE ---- ..... 164

XV THIN ICE ........................ 176

XVT DAWN AND REFLECTIONS ............ 187

XVTI INTERFERENCE. , . . . .............. 199

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

XVIII THE INVASION 209

XIX HOOKEY BOYS 220

XX PLANS PRECIPITATED 231

XXI A LION IN His DEN 244

XXII JUBILANT JUDITH 258

XXIII SURPRISING NEWS 270

XXIV THE CONFESSION 282

XXV SATISFACTION GUARANTEED 297

Jane Allen:

Senior

CHAPTER I

GROWING

IT was not Jane's fault. And there are so
many like her in the great world of girls,
attractive with personality, fortunate with
home and a wonderful father, popular with
her many friends, and withal — good looking.
Should not such a list of attributes make any
girl happy? But does it, really?

So it was not her fault that in her senior year
at college she found herself without that one
positive asset that makes for real security and
self confidence; she had no profession, she had
no business training, and she was not sure just
how she would earn a living if that possibility
should ever present itself.

JANE ALLEN:

"But why, why?" demanded Judith Stearns
irritatedly. "One would think you were going
in for horrid politics or some other modern fad."
There was scorn in every W7ord Judith uttered,
although it failed to ring true.

"Don't be silly, Judy. I am not going in for
anything. I am simply going out for work. I
don't like this homage business. It's about as
comfortable as being the model for our marble
statue. Not that I am a model," she hastened
to qualify, "but you all seem to think that your
love suffices."

'There you go! Scorning our love. !And I
just came over to lay a new bunch of it at your
feet." Judith glanced down at the feet. "Rather
'nifty' little shoes. Where' d you get 'em?"

"All right, Judy, if you are not interested
I'll talk to Dozia. I am just human enough to
want company in this work." Jane sat down
decidedly. She was either disappointed or pre-
tending to be.

"Oh, I'll tag along, if that's all you want.
You can count on me for the follow up- -I
believe that's what they call the tail end. But
Jane, I hate to see you do it."

"Why, Judy?"

"Maybe you'll get your hands all — dir-tee!"

SENIOR

"No doubt of it."

"And you'll be bobbing your hair."

"Not likely."

"And you will be sure to adopt mannish
clothes."

"The3T're the best thing this season."

"And worst of all, you'll be away from the
fun." This was said with complete and abso-
lute decision.

"Fun?" Jane slanted her gray eyes until they
took on their famous steely glints. "Judy,
what fun is there in romping along through this
life like a set of irresponsible children? True,
we've done things, in a way, but not in a very
big way." She tossed her head until the red
gold hair threatened to break through a perfectly
good and perfectly matched invisible net. Some
few ringlets always did break out about her fore-
head and around her neck, but they only proved
the rule of tidiness and approved outside the
confines.

"I like— that!" drawled Judith, "after all the
wonderful things that have happened all through
our other years, Jane Allen! You are the
most ungrateful girl!" The charge was contra-
dicted by the affectionate tone. Judith loved
Jane.

JANE ALLEN:

"Exactly. They happened. But who can
depend upon happenings for, well — for a living,
for instance?"

"Say, Jane, I honestly do believe you are plot-
ting to support someone."

"I am."

"Is he — good looking?"

"Handsome."

"Oh!" Judith sat up straight and her own
idark eyes twinkled. "I think I'll join your labor
squad, or whatever it is. A handsome man alters
the situation entirely."

Jane chuckled. The irrepressible Judy was
to be depended upon always, and her excuse for
"coming in" on the proposition, merely afforded
her a, pleasant way of capitulating.

"Do you know, Jude, what it will honestly
mean?"

"I'll join the union. Then I defy you."
Judith slumped further down in the big chair.
Her dark head made an additional figure in the
brilliant cretonne background, and it was quite
as pretty as the painted ladies in their effective
coiffures.

"It's two hundred hours field work," announced
Jane, placidly.

'Two hundred hours in one piece!"

SENIOR

"Oh, no, of course not. Two hundred hours
are required by the course," Jane explained.

"Oh, I breathe easier," moaned Judith. "I
could just see you plugging out two hundred
hours — why mercy me! That would bring you
up to Christmas."

"But Jude, darling. Do you know what field
work means?"

"Surest thing. He's the fellow who stops the
ball."

'Well Judy, if you aren't going to be sane
over this, as I said before, I'll ask Dozia. But
you know I always like you, pest that you are."

"Pest that you am, sounds newer," suggested
Judith. "Though why you should be out gun-
ning for pests, with all this college full and
swarming over "

Jane jumped up and tossed her note booK
down on the small desk. "I see you are still
an infant," she declared querulously. "I hoped
you would be growing up in this senior year.
Land knows, you need maturity."

"But it's so unbecoming. I had it on the other
day when mother asked me to itemize the store bill,
and it almost spoiled my pretty forehead. Jane
dear, you run along and make all the arrange-
ments. I assure you I'll be ready for your labor

6 JANE ALLEN:

squad when the whistle blows," and Judith dusted
the crumbs from the fudge box into a white palm,
then she spilled the palm into a scoop of very
pretty lips. Judith was pretty, and each year
paid her further compliments; her own state-
ment against maturity to the contrary.

"You really want to take this interesting
course, Judith?"

"I really do, strange as it may seem for a
young thing like me."

"Then you will have to give up most of the
sports."

"Which most?"

"Field work is compelling." Jane was too in-
terested in her subject to be thrown off the track
by Judith's frivolity. 'You see, the cases must
be attended to when they are assigned to stu-
dents, and if there happened to be a basketball
game, or worse yet, a football game "

"I'd run and leave the case to Janie," con-
fessed Judith shamelessly.

"I believe vou. That is, vou would leave some

•/ * *.

cases. But how about the handsome "

"That was just what I was going to ask you,"
interrupted Judith. "How about the handsome
young man? Do I get him for my case?"
"Oh girl! Harken to this!" begged Jane.

SENIOR

"When a social service case is assigned a stu-
dent she takes it, body and bones

"I agreed to that with the handsome young
man "

A fit of laughter, punctuated with moans and
groans, confessed Jane's defeat. It was useless
to try to make Judith pay any sort of attention.
She was enjoying the very idea of Jane doing
anything outside of college, and while the Social
Service course was vague and novel to her, it
did present some attractive possibilities. There
was the case with the young man in it, for in-
stance. Jane had said nothing about a young
man, but Judith had easily conjured one up
and equipped him with the most fascinating
personality.

"Sign me up," she ordered as Jane slipped
into her sport coat. "Are you going over to
that office now?"

"Yes, and if you really want to take this
course you had better tag along," said Jane,
squashing her hat on firmly. "Otherwise, I'll
pick up any well disposed student who crosses
my path. I need a side partner in this."

"Then, I suppose I'll have to tear myself away
from this lovely chair. I think these chairs are
a distinct addition to Wellington," she remarked

8 JANE ALLEN:

facetiously. 0I like the cretonnes. They're be-
coming, although I might have liked blue where
the orange is."

"After Princeton's victory? What's the use,
Judith. Yale may be notable for your Mr. Blair,
but it is not to be considered when the orange
tackles it on the big field. I think Walker showed
rare discrimination in her choice of chair covers."

"I don't suppose she even knows they contain
either orange or blue," remarked Judith, run-
ning a finger along the colorful pattern, :'but I
love Yale blue."

"You may. He's really quite a nice chap,"
conceded Jane. "Now, let us see what sort of
field worker you will make. Hurry along. I
have an appointment."

"Do I wear a uniform?" inquired Judith.

"Not exactly. But you can't wear flashy
sport clothes when in the field. Joking aside,
Judith, we are going in for a serious piece of
work in this new course, and if you sign up for
it you will have to forget a lot of nonsense."

"I'll try," drawled the dark haired girl. "In
fact I'll do more than that for your handsome
young man. Wait a moment until I get my big
sweater. I feel the chill of this social service
svave already," and she olid finally succeed in

SENIOR

getting into some out door garments and pres-
ently tagged along after Jane.

It was the beginning of the second month at
Wellington, and the two seniors, Jane Allen
and her chum Judith Stearns, were, as has been
intimated, preparing to take up the Social Serv-
ice course in addition to their regular college
studies. It was entirely Jane's idea. She in-
sisted she must be prepared with a real, practical
working knowledge of the general social side of
life, when the day would come for Wellington
to give her a degree. During her vacation she
had talked it over with her father, that very
likable gentleman out in Montana, and while he
did not exactly fancy the idea of his attractive
daughter going in for "slumming," as he insisted
upon designating the social service idea, he did
not oppose it. It would, he admitted, give Jane
a valuable working knowledge of other classes,
also it would do a lot of good for those in need
of such investigating and assistance, but he hoped,
and he made this much stronger than a mere
hope, she would not go in so deeply that she
would fall a victim to the cause. He did not
want Jane to devote a promising young life to
a restricted career.

As for Aunt Mary — that gentle little body

IP JANE ALLEN:

who stood in the place of mother to the girl her
brother's wife had left in her care almost at baby-
hood— she was appalled. The very last word she
called out to Jane as the train left was: "Be
careful of yourself, my dear, when you are out
on those dangerous cases." It was easy to
imagine Aunt Mary's apprehension, for, as a
matter of fact, the cases are not only sure to be
interesting but they are apt to be complicated.

Even so they were now to be undertaken, and
Jane and Judith were bound for the office of
the secretary of this special course. It was out-
side Wellington proper, and had only been
recognized as a profession since college gradu-
ates were required by the Social Service pro-
moters.

"And so you promise, Janie," said Judith,
when a group of students had been greeted and
escaped, "you promise this will be thrilling?"

"I haven't promised, but I'm afraid it will be,"
said Jane, tossing her head defiantly.

"And better sport than — the sports?"

"No sport in it."

"Well, there was our first year with you on
the Subs," Judith undertook to recall, referring
to the first year's record as told in Jane Allen
of the Sub Team.

SENIOR

"All our years have been fruitful," went on
Judith, "and I'll admit we have had our share
of thrills, but I want this to be the banner, of
course, and I feel sure that your handsome young
man is the answer."

Jane swung an arm around her chum. She
was always delicious, this dark eyed Judy, and
after the recent separation of vacation Jane
found her more attractive than ever.

In return Judith put two arms around Jane
and almost lifted her bodily in a little affectionate
jump. "You haven't got too heavy — I'm glad
of that," said Judith. "I should hate to have to
puff when I save you from some disaster out
on a case. Do you suppose we will have to take
special training in athletics? I can swing pretty
well with my left," she did so. "But my right
is a bit stiff," she tried that also. "I am sure
we will have to be as limber as kittens and strong
as 'cops' when we go gunning in your cases."

"Judith, do you realize, dear, you are joking
at the expense of some of the dearest things in
life "

"Oh, your handsome young man, of course.
He's exempt. I don't land either my right or
my left on him. It's just for the other cases.
That with the old maid aunt and that with the

12 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

tight-wad dad. Do you have any dad's on your
list?"

"In family case work there may be entire
families or pathetic remnants of that circle," said
Jane, ignoring the bantering of Judith. "I just
tingle with the prospect of investigating family
wrongs and trying to correct them. Think, what
an opportunity!"

Judith howled. Out in the street as she was,
even the public opinion did not influence her
mood. She was hilarious!

"I can see your — end," she said. "If you go
to correcting family wrongs, I'd like to wager,
you buy them all flivvers. Well, good luck!
Show me the way and I'll help you tag them.
Get the correct model car wrhile you're about it."

And then they entered the office, thereby
entering upon the most interesting period of
their entire college course. There was more than
a handsome young man of Judith's imagination
in the work they were about to undertake, but
fortunately for them, the profession does not
forecast its detail — that is left for the field work-
ers to unfold.

CHAPTER II

FIELD WORKERS IN THE MAKING

SEATED in the trim little office, waiting
for the attention of the young girl who
was answering the telephone, making notes
and giving instructions to a young woman obvi-
ously her senior — and intermittently throwing
out a sentence to a woman in black who sighed
as she waited ; in the face of this, Jane and Judith
lost their frivolity and became, forthwith, seniors.

"I feel like backing out," Judith whispered.

Jane was too much interested to comment.
She could not help hearing the telephone con-
versation, that is the half that was present on
the office side of the wire ; she could not but notice
the sad face of the woman in the heathenish black
garb that seemed to drip sadness, and she could
not avoid approving the efficient way in which
the young girl behind the desk took care of all
the angles presented.

"I'll be with you girls, presently," remarked
the young woman. "I have only to assign this
case, then I will be — at your service." She

13

14 JANE ALLEN:

smiled pleasantly. The girls from Wellington
were recognized as students whose interest it was
important to obtain, and nothing but the pres-
sure of actual business would have kept them
thus waiting.

Presently all the business was disposed of.
The woman in black tarried and did not seem
inclined to go, but the senior worker kindly but
firmly led the way out, and the "cortege" as it
appeared to Jane, passed into the next corridor.

'We wish to take up your course," Jane be-
gan, directly after introducing Judith and being
informed that the social service secretary wras
Miss Morgan.

'You have taken sociology at Wellington, of
course?" she 'asked.

Jane reviewed her record in the subject, and
Judith did likewise.

'We are most anxious to have workers,
but " she hesitated.

'What is the objection?" asked Jane frankly.

'Well, as a matter of fact, we rarely take sucK
young girls. You see the work is not always
pleasant, and for regular field work we usually
require women of more maturity."

Jane's face fell. Being young was often a
hindrance rather than a help.

SENIOR 15

"In our girl's club work we need your type,
but you say you prefer the family case work?"
inquired Miss Morgan.

"Oh, yes," said Jane. "Club work would not
really appeal to us at all."

"College is full of clubs," chimed in Judith
rather bluntly.

"I know that. I'm from Browiiell/' said
Miss Morgan.

"Yet you are considered sufficiently experi-
enced," Jane remarked smilingly.

"They needed some one for this office and I
was pressed into service," explained the secre-
tary. "Besides, I do not actually go out into the
field, you see."

"But you must have done your two hundred
hours field work," argued Jane.

Miss Morgan smiled, and it bore the brand of
joyous youth, "I see I cannot win you to our
girls club ranks," she said. "So I suppose I shall
have to recruit you for the general course. We
have some very interesting cases — when did you
plan to commence?"

"Just as soon as you give us our assignments,"
said Jane. "We are all ready for the field, we
have had any amount of theory."

16 JANE ALLEN:

Miss Morgan glanced down at her books. She
looked up at Jane, tftien at Judith.

"I have one case " Again she paused. It

was evident this was important, and that while
she wished to assign the girls to it, she almost
feared to do so. She glanced again at Jane.
'Which of you is the senior senior?" she asked,
smiling at the term.

"Miss Allen has outclassed me — a little," said
Judith, good naturedly.

"Now Judith," protested Jane. "We have
kept together all through college, and I only hap-
pened to take up an extra subject last year,"
she told the secretary.

"But that extra was sociology," insisted
Judith.

'To be frank, girls," continued Miss Morgan,
"I will have to consult before I give this case out.
Yet it is rather urgent. In the meantime I shall
ask you to do some trial work. There are always
too many cases waiting. And this locality, tak-
ing in the farms, means child-labor and €hildren
neglecting their education."

"Oh, I could inspect," said Judith brightly.
"I had a class at our own country school once,
and every time ,a boy stayed at home they sent
me after him."

SENIOR 17

This brought forth a laugh from both Jane and
the secretary. They could easily imagine Judith
hauling a lad to school, even by the scuff of his
collar, or is it the neck that has a scuff?

"I have a case waiting for you then," said Miss
Morgan. "A boy of twelve, he is rather a lusty
chap, will not go to school. We have no attend-
ance officers here, and all that work comes to
our bureau. I shall have the card made out for
you at once, and, if convenient, you may start
tomorrow."

"Now, Jane Allen!" said Judith. "I beat you
after all. And my first case has a — boy in it."
She wanted to say "handsome young man" but
feared that would sound too frivolous.

Jane nodded agreement. Her case was not
yet handed over, but she hoped when it was, it
would not be a truancy.

It took some time to make out their application
slips and sign all the confidential exchange mat-
ter, but being directly from Wellington their
record and standing were sufficient to pass them
through the preliminaries without much delay.

"If you will come in tomorrow, Miss Allen,"
said Miss Morgan, "I shall be ready to give you
a case. As a matter of fact, we always give our
instructions out confidentially. I know you are

1 8 JANE ALLEN:

very good friends, but Social Service is different
from all other branches of study," she qualified.
"It involves the most intimate affairs of families,
and the most remarkable complications that often
are responsible for need and neglect. So if you
will report one at two, and the other at three
tomorrow, I shall give you each a try out," she
said checking a very broad smile to answer the
impolite telephone.

Jane and Judith collected the literature tlhey
were to begin on and passed out to allow others
to enter.

"Well!" gasped Judith, before they had left
the business building. "Now I am in for it. Jane
Allen, red head, also brick top and carrot stew!
If I find this labor union and general family
affairs are not consistent with the very best usages
of society I shall sue you for damages in the
highest court pf the land. I just know I shall
have a perfectly dreadful time. Have you con-
sidered that I am absent minded? Suppose I
bring my truant lad right into Deanie's office by
mistake? Or suppose, worse still, he robs us of
our jools! Think, think girl! Of that string of
red beads Dozia Dalton lives in. If aught should
befall them Dozia would go daft "

"Oh Judy, do be sensible. Aren't you thrille8

SENIOR 19

already? Don't you know you will get off from
a lot of dry, dull lectures to go hunting up truant
boys?"

"Do I go alone? Stark alone?" wailed Judith.

"No, my dear, you need have no anxiety on
that score. The colleges do not allow their girls
to go out alone on cases."

"So glad!" sighed Judith. "For, Janie dear,
I was only bluffing about being a crack shot at
bagging hookey lads. I would be scared to death
if one so much as blew a putty ball at me. The
cases I referred to were from ,a Sunday School
class, and when I called I always went dressed
up and in our car. It was that which impressed."

"I can understand," said Jane. "They liked
the car ride to school in you flivver."

"Loved it. That's why I suggested flivvers as
prizes for your cases. But Jane, honestly, I am
all a-tremble. Can you imagine us going on real
cases? Into strange places and all?"

'Why not? Aren't you old enough to know
how to run a family?"

A shout answered this. It seemed every sen-
tence the girls uttered was capable of a free and
also a literal translation. One could scarcely
imagine Judith Stearns "running a family."

"And we are to go separately for our cases,

20 JANE ALLEN:

remember that," said Judith. 'There're a lot of
the girls back from basketball. We have already
missed something."

"But we have had the games through all our
three years," Jane reminded her companion.
They were almost at the college gate, and the
girls were coming and going, laughing, calling,
and whistling, as girls in their own world are
ever wont to do. They hailed Jane and Judith,
but the latter put on a most important air, and
declared she was out on a "secret service case"
and no one was to "intercept her."

In reply they seized Judith and carried her
bodily into the grounds. Dozia Dalton, the big-
gest, strongest and best natured girl of all, just
picked Judith up and marched along with her
•while the others followed, taunting gleefully.

Jane fell in step with Nettie Brocton. "Have
you seen Bobbie and Sally?" asked Jane. "I
promised to meet them this afternoon, but I
couldn't make it."

"Yes, they were both at practice. Bob is com-
ing along in great shape," attested Nettie. "But
say Janie, what's all this I hear about you going
outside and doing Social Service?"

"Exactly that," admitted Jane. Judith had
managed to escape from Dozia and was now run-

SENIOR 21

ning wildly through the campus. No one would
have taken her for a senior, that is, no one who
did not know the joyous freedom of dear old
Wellington.

"We all wish you wouldn't, Jane," said Nettie
gently.

"Why?"

"It will take you away from everything here."

"Oh, no. Not so bad as that. Of course, I'll
have to give up a lot of sports and I won't have
as much time as usual for high jinks," said Jane.
"But you see, Nett, I want a — career, a ka —
ree — eer!"

"Oh, I see. Well, there is a big demand for
the real thing in college girls. I know Social
Service is taking graduates only, so, perhaps,
Janie, just perhaps, you may bring glory to
Wellington, although to be frank, I prefer the
immediate results of a very good time."

"I am frail and human enough to feel the same
way," admitted Jane, "but a still, small voice
within me — etc. You know, Nettie, what it is
when you inherit things, and I have a father who
is never content with ordinary results. So, I
suppose, my virtuous rash is breaking out in this,
my senior year."

"But you don't mean to say you expect Judy

22 JANE ALLEN:

Stearns to make good at anything like that?"
queried Nettie, incredulously.

'Yes, I do. The fact is, Judy is a perfect
brick at keeping girls together, and that's the
very requirement for the girl's club work. I
ido admit she would not seem fitted for the family
case work; she would just sit down and commis-
erate with every toothache; but in girls' work,
I think Judy ought to be perfectly splendid,"
Jane enthused. "Dont you remember how she
patched up all the stirring factions we have
suffered from in the last three years?"

"Yes, but she had you to work for, and you did
happen to be popular. Not that I underestimate
Judy," Nettie hurried to explain, "but I was
just considering what might happen if this inter-
est should spread. Why, half the girls will be
running for Social Service work." Nettie's
voice showed some opposition.

"Do you understand the principle, Nettie?"
asked Jane, a challenge in her voice.

"Oh, yes. You are supposed to investigate
and adjust all sorts of family squabbles and
troubles," said Nettie. "I knew a girl who took
the Spencer course and she couldn't come home
for meals. She always had her Christmas dinners
down at the docks, and her -especial interest was

SENIOR 23

with the men who mend umbrellas. Now Jane,
can you see yourself at that sort of tiling?"
scoffed Nettie.

"I may begin on babies," answered Jane.
They were almost at the door of Madison, and
Judith ran back to meet them. She promptly
interrupted.

"Oh, say Nett! Has she been telling you?
About my handsome boy, I mean. The one I
am to adopt?"

"I don't recall the handsome boy, I thought,
rather, it was a flock of girls," replied Nettie,
taking on Judith's good humor.

"Then she's prolonging the good news. Yes
indeedy! I am to go out gunning for hookey
lads, and can you imagine it?"

"Now Judith, if you go around making fun
of the work you are sure to get into a frivolous
state of mind, and that will be psychologically
against good work. You want to take this seri-
ously or I am afraid you will not be successful.
Get used to the word 'serious,' ' insisted Jane.

"Serious? I am going to lock my door this
very night and study these maps and charts,"
Judith waved the roll of pamphlets. "I will be
letter perfect in every detail before I go back
to that efficient little woman. And Jane, the

24 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

more I think of it, the more I am convinced,
that the case she is going to hand over to you
is the one of especial importance. I could tell
by her eye "

"Reading eyes all ready? That's a pretty
good start, for the first step in our new profes-
sion, ahem! is keen observation. There Judy, I
knew you were a fit student. Now girls, just
watch our "

But Jane was too near a professor, who stood
at the hall door, to finish in the vernacular.

CHAPTER III

THE HOPELESS CHEST

FROM this rather flighty beginning
evolved the most important issue ever
undertaken in Wellington. The interest
in Social Service spread, just as Nettie Brocton
foretold, until most of the seniors of any account
whatever, either applied for admission to the
class, took up the preparatory lectures, or de-
voted all their extra time and money to the
"Cause."

"It's lots better than running around after the
basketball squad," said Dozia. "Besides, girls,
it will prepare us for our own family manage-
ment." Dozia was irresistible as a prospective
home-body.

'We thought as much, Dozia," said Jane.

1 You can now entertain the class with an account

of the hope chest. What's the newest in hopes?"

"My newest," and Dozia gave her character-
istic stretch that brought her length out peril-
ously near Ted Guthrie's best pumps, "my new-

25

26 JANE ALLEN:

est in hopes is the Lost Hope. It's too sad to
relate," and she sniffed effectively.

"Ah, now Doze! Go on and tell!" begged
Janet Clark. "We have heard that you really
are engaged."

"Some good friend spread the glad report,"
replied Dozia, "but unfortunately, it is spread
on a very thin surface. I almost lost the man
outright, this summer."

"How?"

Here was the very morsel of news everyone
craved.

"Well, you know how I look in a bathing
suit "

"Perfectly mermaidy," said Jane. "With that
grace and those locks, not to speak of the "

"Shanks, say it Jane. Have courage! It was
the shanks. You know I just insisted on wear-
ing them covered, and not another girl, nay not
even a matron, wore covered shanks this sum-

mer.'

'What in the world would a pair of stockings
have to do with a man?" asked Velma Sigsbee.
She knew Dozia's jokes, yet would take her seri-
ously in spite of that.

"Oh, heaps. But I scarcely feel able to re-
late," said Dozia. "It all comes back with a

SENIOR 27

swoop " and she spread an inadequate hand,

fanlike, over a smiling face.

"Go ahead, dear," encouraged Ted Guthrie.
She was as fat as ever, in spite of all her summer
treatments. "Do tell about the shanks," she
begged.

"No, it was socks, wasn't it Doze?" prompted
Nettie.

They were all in Jane's room, which was also
Judith's. Madison Hall, the home of some
juniors and many seniors, had about settled down
to the regular routine of girls and girls, with
books and papers. The beds were there also,
stuck away as far back as walls would allow, but
the most conscious feature was the girls with their
personal appurtenances, such as pillows, candy
boxes, banners, pictures and a few of the needed
chairs. Alongside of said chairs the students
usually spread themselves out on the floor. The
present evening was being given over to Dozia's
reminiscence of what she termed "A Lost
Summer."

"As you were saying," again Judith sug-
gested, "it was the socks."

"Yes. You know how they will get hole — y,
the very best of them. Not that mine had ever
been good — Dud lent them to me and he never

2$ JANE ALLEN:

would have done so if they had not been beyond
repair — but I wore them, at any rate "

"That's the main thing," interrupted Janet,
with a sigh of relief.

'Yes, it was. And my friend — Phil "

"The friend?" asked Jane.

1 'He — she or it, and sometimes W and Y."
Dozia rolled over and pulled down a bunch of
papers that had been sliding from a chair. They
flew about most recklessly and Judith made a
pretense of scrambling after them.

'When you get back to position I shall pro-
ceed," said Dozia, loftily.

"Oh, go ahead! What about your old socks?"
demanded Nettie, impatiently.

"Shanks?" insisted Velma.

"Both," amended Jane.

"Either," flung in Judith. "I'm not so par-
ticular, Doze."

"Now, maybe you-all think this is funny.
Have you lost track of the fact that I lost my
Phil through it all?" This with a whimsical
inflection put Dozia in the forsaken class.

"No, I have that fact on my first finger," said
Jane. "But Doze, is he that perfectly spiffing
fellow you brought out to the prom last year?
'Yes.

SENIOR 29

"And your hope chest is hopeless now?"

"I'm planning a auction or a fire sale," moaned
Dozia.

"How did it happen?" demanded Velma.
"Did he get angry because you did or did not
wear socks?" Velma was distractingly literal.

A shout followed this. It soared and roared
until Jane begged for consideration.

"You know, Walker has asked that we be or-
derly and let the other good students — stude,"
she explained.

"It was this way," again began Dozia. "I
was learning a new stroke and it was perfectly
dreadful on socks, so when I went in the water
I loosed me garters "

"Did you wear — them?" The scorn in Nettie's
voice betrayed her own weakness for the rolled
top sock, and her abhorrence for anything so anti-
quated as elastic.

"Oh, just the merest thread," Dozia explained.
"You see, girls, I have not the self-adjusting sort
of knee. Mine slides."

The long, thin girl, who was the biggest joke
to herself, never looked longer than she did at
the moment. Surely her knees did "slide."

"And Phil? Where does Phil figure?" de-
manded Winifred Ayres.

30 JANE ALLEN:

'When I came back from the briny deep my
socks would not stay socked, -and you know, girls,
I never could go out on the beach with those
little, pink shanks just shanking. So I asked
Phil would he mind running over to the pavilion
store for a box of cookies?"

"Cookies? I thought you wanted garters?"
gasped Velma.

"I did, of course. The cookies were just an
excuse to get rid of Phil ; they would never hold
up socks. Well, he went away and I crawled
out and pulled the socks after me," she continued.
"I was just about to try that new fangled roll,
you know the cute little turn we used to make
baby's hats out of old stockings with, when along
came Jack Dean. I hadn't seen the boy in years,
and I forgot all about the miscreant socks, and
promptly came out to greet him. I was doing
so most effusively, when along came Phil with
the cookies."

"We don't quite see "

"No one could," Jane interrupted the nar-
nator.

"But men are the oddest sticks. There was

Jack and there was Phil and there was I "

This was Dozia.

"And the cookies," suggested Velma.

SENIOR 31

'Ye-ah. Then I looked down at my poor,
benighted knees and plunged into the deep again.
My knees were never pretty," admitted Dozia.

"Just to cover a pair of knees ? Left two very
nice boys?" queried Judith. She had been eating
candy up to that, but the boy part interested her.

"I did. Jack dove in after me, but Phil —
He just turned on his heel and went up the sands,
mad. Said I had <cut him for Jack and he knew
Jack at Blake's, and Jack had always been a
tease, it seems. When I came back to the water's
edge" (Dozia was dragging out the yarn with
telling effect. Some of the girls were almost
asleep), "when I came back," she repeated, "Phil
was just assisting a striped suit girl into the
canoe, although it was too rough to go on the
ocean in a bark. But I suppose he did it so I
could see that he did not depend upon one, mere
girl. Then Jack fell to and took care of me."

"And the naked knees?" Velma was not to be
sidetracked.

"I was so glad to see Jack I forgot about the
knees. And besides lots of folks wore them that
way," said the inconsistent Dozia. "But they
did furnish the evidence. I have not been hope-
chesting for Phil since."

"And what about Jack?" Velma again.

JANE ALLEN:

"I had a card for his wedding last week," ad-
mitted Dozia. "He is the sort of fellow who
believes in settling down."

"I don't blame him," remarked Nettie. "Even
you gave up Phil for him. He must be a regu-
lar — prize."

"Not exactly, but 'he has a position in the big-
gest export office on the docks. He will take
the girl to foreign parts. But Phil, now he is
different. He believes in home-rule, or home-
trade, or whatever you call home grown stuff,"
floundered the weary Dozia.

"Couldn't you make it up?" asked Nettie.

"Girls, I will confide in you a real secret,"
said the girl who was holding the center of the
stage. "I believe college is the death of real
prospects. When I went home I expected to
find the usual crowd of admirers on my door step,
instead of which they were two doors down.
Myrtle had not gone to college but had cultivated
friends. I don't believe in being away from
home four mortal years, and letting the others
do all the campaigning."

"You don't claim that your sentiment is origi-
nal, do you?" asked Jane. "Seems to me others
have sent out that alarm."

"Many. That is all the more reason why it's

SENIOR 33

true." Dozia was apparently serious. "And
Jane Allen, I suspect that is why you are out
for Social Service. You are going to prove you
can do something besides listen to lectures and
attend proms. You are going to learn 'family
cases,' I hear."

"With a handsome young man thrown in the
very first case," inserted Judith. ' While I must
be content with a mere, truant boy."

"There is something in what you say," bantered
Ted Guthrie. She looked like a great, big, extra
cushion on the couch. "I was not beseiged with
callers myself this summer," she admitted. 'The
boys, especially, seemed to shy clear of me.
Claimed I was a high brow. Now girls, what
shall we do to correct all this? We can't all go
into the family case work," she concluded.

"For one thing we can carry extra elastic
wHen we try new strokes," suggested Dozia.
"Who could foresee that so trifling a trifle would
result so disastrously?" Again the falsetto wail.

The tale had been frivolous, still, it held the
girls' attention. When away at college, the home
scenes, particularly the summer features, are al-
ways a welcome diversion. How much or how
little of Dozia's story was built upon fact no one
bothered to question, as she was ever most ac-

JANE ALLEN:

commodating as an entertainer; but she was also
one of the girls with social "prospects," and
around her interest was found to center.

"Quite a yarn," commented Judith. "I had
one myself but I'll save it for a better opportu-
nity. Besides, who could compete with Dozia?"

"Gather up the fragments," suggested Jane,
alluding to Dozia who was scattered about the
floor. She was long enough to be "gathered up,"
and as she moved quite a number of articles moved
with her.

"And honestly, Doze, aren't you going to tell
us about the hope chest?" pressed the insatiable
Yelma.

"Say Vellie, why don't you get one? They're
quite cheap now, or just ask the grocer boy for a
pretty box and cover it all over with cretonne,"
suggested Jane. 'Then, \vhen you ask a boy to
go for cookies and another one comes along the
sands, why, you'll be all ready. I'll start you
with a pair of worsted slippers Judy Stearns
wished on me last birthday."

This precipitated a veritable shower, each girl
offering the helpless Velma such gifts as had
been thrust upon the original, until Velma, not
to be outclassed in strategy, got a note book and
therein recorded the promises.

SENIOR 35

"And I'll collect F.O.B.," said Velma. "I
don't know what it means, but that's the way
our winter apples come and they are always
lovely."

"Just let me see your ring, Doze?" asked Jane,
reverting to the Phil and Jack episode. "It
seems to me, that's new."

"Oh, do let's !" begged a chorus. Whereupon
Dozia and her diamond became a pivot around
which circled the party.

Every one admired, and Dozia fondled the
third finger of her left hand significantly.

Thus the beginning of the senior year found
all the students preparing for the year after.
As the first two, and sometimes three years at
college are difficult, the senior year is regarded
as a perfectly sure finish. So to these seniors
came the new problem of the big, outside world.
For the entire course they had all but given up
home and its consequent responsibilities, but now
they were coming back to it with a rush. Home
would soon be theirs.

But to Jane the present was especially fas-
cinating. A knowledge of the great, mysterious
battle of life as being fought by the less fortunate,
afforded her a new and profound interest. So
strange, so wonderful, and even so remarkable

36 JANE ALLEN:

was the vista opening up through the study of
Social Service that even Judith had calmed down
at last to its tragic requirements.

The little cards, marked out in blocks for notes
and reports, were now as familiar to the students
as had been their test reports heretofore, and
following the initial preperation their cases were
assigned, and, as had been anticipated, it was
Jane's case that made the real story.

She was allowed to talk over some of the detail
with Judith in private conference, and she was
now availing herself of this privilege.

"It frightens me," she admitted. "I really
Wonder, Judy, am I wise enough "

"Oh, pooh bah!" exclaimed Judy. "You are
not only wise enough but also brave enough.
Miss Morgan told me so herself."

"That's kind," replied Jane. "But you have
no idea how complicated this special case is."

"The one with tihe handsome young man
attached?"

"Queer how you suspected him. There is
really a young man in it. I haven't seen him, so
I cannot testify as to his beauty," said Jane,
jotting another line in her day's report book. "I
am going out tomorrow to see one branch of the
family and obtain my first interview."

SENIOR 37

"Could I know how the young man figures?"
asked Judy, facetiously.

"He has not figured yet. Part of my task is
to get him to do so."

"Oh, go on Janie. Tell a fellow something
about it," coaxed Judith. "I told you all about
my hookey case."

"If you will just try to be serious for a few
minutes I should be glad to," replied Jane.
"But Judy, we are really handling life problems
in this work, and we cannot afford to treat it

lightly."

"Oh, I know. I found my family trying to
divide a can of salt codfish between four today,
and that included the baby. I know just how
serious it is," admitted Judith. "But Miss
Morgan was so secretive about your case "

"Yes, I rather think she was doubtful about
turning it over to a beginner. But there was
need for a girl to handle it. It seems the regu-
lar experienced workers had little influence upon
the principal party, an elderly gentleman," Jane
continued.

"Oh, I adore elderly gentlemen! Now, why
couldn't I have had that case instead of my cod-
fish shower?" deplored Judith.

"There appears to have been a reason," went

38 JANE ALLEN:

on Jane evenly. "Fact is, the old gentleman is
a friend of dad's."

"Not really?"

"Yes indeed. He wrote dad something of the
story and happened to mention that girls from
Wellington were 'pestering' him. Dad wrote
back that I might be among the number of pests."

"Good for dad! I like his spirit. I wish my
folks would go into the produce business and send
me a shipment of fresh fruit for my Andy and
his folks. I fancy I could get him to attend
school more promptly if he did not have to worry
about purloining specked bananas," complained
Judy.

'Yes. It seems strange that there should be
actual want so near us out here; but this is an
old town, and the outskirts have been gradually
fading from the state of prosperous farms to that
of being the fringe of a college town. Industries
have come, but the most important, that of soil
cultivation, has departed," Jane deplored.

"My, but you have learned! All that in a few
weeks? I never hope to compete with such
efficiency. Did your family own a farm and lose
it?" asked Judith.

"No. I hardly know how to begin on relating
even the preliminary detail, but I can tell you

SENIOR 39

this much. There is a young woman, and an
elderly woman, two small children, and outstand-
ing and most important, a very wealthy uncle,"
said Jane.

"Oh, I see. He's dad's friend, naturally.
Your dad couldn't have any other sort of friends,"
Judith made a note or two herself.

"Judy Stearns! Don't you dare insinuate my
father isn't popular among the humblest! I
believe this rich friend made himself that wayy
and he was father's friend when both were
struggling." Jane's voice, while partly banter-
ing, was a trifle emphatic.

"Oh, no harm meant, Jane," Judith hurried
to say. "I just naturally knew that the rich
uncle wrould be your dad's friend. But I don't
blame you at all for resenting the inference."
Judith was serious now. "It is a handicap even
here to be considered as belonging to the idle rich.
Not that I would mind it

'

'If we are going to consult, Judy, hadn't we
better be going at it? I have to report to Miss
Morgan early tomorrow, and I really don't feel
as if I had made any progress. I haven't even
seen the young woman."

"What's the outstanding difficulty?" asked
Judith bluntly.

40 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

"It's mysterious. The mother's health is broken
through anxiety. The daughter is a young
widow, and the son — he's at college !"

"Just like a boy! To be out of it all. Hale
him back and set him to work; that's my diag-
nosis," said Judith promptly.

"But there's a reason," demurred Jane.
"How would you like to have a brother yanked
out of college in his last year after having made
all sorts of sacrifices to get him that far? It
appears he is a most estimable young man, and
has a position waiting for him as soon as he
graduates. His college specializes in engineer-
ing, and he may build big bridges, and amount
to something. Would you deprive a boy of that
after he had worked so hard for it?" demanded
Jane.

Judith dropped her pencil and focused Her
dark eyes on the flushed girl before her.

"Say Jane," she said very gently, "I just wisH
I had one brother, only one; I'd give him to you,"
she finished, and there was no bantering note in
her soft, even voice.

CHAPTER IV

TOO YOUNG TO QUALIFY

VELMA'S shower brought forth a party.
It was held in Ted Gutherie's room
because she had one all to herself, and
s-he was always good natured about parties.
Besides these considerations, there was that of
hot chocolate, which Ted collected in thermos
bottles. No heating affairs were allowed in use
in Madison, but there was no objection to fetch-
ing hot things in.

Dozia was in a state of alleged huff. She pro-
tested that the signs hung upon her door the
night after her lost garter story, did not add
credit to her reputation as a girl of sterling
disposition.

"That one 'Fire Sale/ brought the babies in,"
she declared, "and the one Judy made, I knew
her art, 'Auction of Sentimental Curios,' that
went right to our Lit. Prof .'s heart. She wanted
to know what I had "

"Now Dozia," interrupted Nettie, "we all

41

42 JANE ALLEN:

know you are going to be the first married, and
•\ve are getting our bridesmaid's outfits ready
between times. In fact, we are all wondering
why you stay the year out. Suppose Phil should
meet another girl in a striped suit?"

"It is risky," admitted the tall girl. "But my
<lad had his dear, old heart set on a grad in the
family, and I must be that. We have none other
to qualify. But isn't it lovely about Velma?
The Hope Chest may keep her out of mischief
for a time, at least. She has the most tantalizing
way of- -sticking to things."

"How do you like domestic science?" asked
Xettie pointedly. "I think it's too funny; Jane
and Judy in for family affairs and you 'in for the
cooking class."

"Funny! What do you intend to do when you
go home? Going to give lectures on Socrates?
It seems to me, Nettie, it would be a good idea
for you to take up something practical yourself.
I heard the blacksmith say, the other day, he
wished he had an apprentice."

"Now Dozia Dalton! Don't get sarcastic!
I did ride in a side car a few times, but I am not
interested in the art of w^heelwrighting. It seems
to me I have more than my share of extra work
to do, with getting up proms and such features

SENIOR 43

since you and Jane ducked," she continued. "It
is all well enough for the uplift idea, but who is
going to carry on in Wellington?"

"The freshies all love you. Isn't that worth
while? I believe the term is 'crush' — they all
have 'crushes' on you. I don't like the word.
Makes me think of what money I lost at a soda
fountain last year; but in the dorms of the babes
the name Nettie Brocton fairly echoes," declared
Dozia, dramatically. "So don't you worry about
others deserting the social ranks."

"Jane and Jude are simply lost to us," Nettie
continued to bewail. "Bobbie and Shirley are
inconsolable. Jane took them to her heart last
year, you know, and I can't see how she is going
to desert them now. They sort of look to her to
fight their battles."

"Well, Jane is fighting real battles and Judith
is having a great time collecting truant boys, I
believe," said Dozia. "As far as I am concerned
I haven't done a thing outside except to help with
the Health Drive. I hope I did a mite of good
then by spreading the gospel of soap and water
in the southern district. Poor creatures ! They
are so busy trying to live they don't have time to
learn how to live."

"Miss Hutledge was proud of our corps,"

44 JANE ALLEN:

added Nettie. ''She said we made a better show-
ing than any of the other colleges. And it was not
a simple matter to go into the big city, and canvass
for clean faces. I was with Miss Wilcox, up
town, and it was not so bad there. But I heard
about your district."

"I don't blame Jane and Judith for going into
the whole thing scientifically," added Dozia. "I
found the only answer to the perpetual question
of 'what can be done' is to be found in the text
books. It cannot be guessed at, and it is almost
an exact science."

'Yes, I agree with you," said Nettie. "I used
to think it was a matter of boosting salaries, but
I know now we have to have the specialist in the
human nature field, as well as in any other partic-
ular branch of applied knowledge. But it seems
to me, Jane is taking her work over seriously.
She wouldn't even accept a senior office, and after
the place she held here last year," commented
Nettie.

"Just give Jane her head, as we say in sports,
and she will come back to us triumphant," de-
clared Dozia. "You know very well, Nettie, a
lot of the girls criticised our devotion to Jane,
said we were unfair."

"Oh, they would criticise our attention to

SENIOR 45

Columbia, if she happened along," complained
Nettie. "I don't mind giving others a chance,
but I don't care to have so much to do myself.
Not one of the crowd of dissenters is willing to
send out tickets, help with decorating, or do any
of the hundred things we have to do for the first
prom. They were eager enough to go on com-
mittees, but once their names appeared in the
Tellit they just sat back, and I have to gather up
all the loose ends." she declared.

"I'll help, Nett, honestly I will," declared
Dozia, "I did not realize how we were missed.
Of course, the seniors owe a lot of social obliga-
tions to the others, and I'll see Jane and Judith
and ask them to change their schedule and make
room for a few evenings at home. I'll call upon
them this very night." she finished, firmly.

"I breathe easier," sighed Nettie. "I have
been so used to the party as a whole I cannot
sense it in terms of persons. I wonder how the
big work is really coming on?"

"They're so secretive about it they won't even
tell me what the field work means — beyond
'cases/ as if that meant anything. But I saw
Judith with a lad yesterday, and I did not have
to be a Sherlock to guess she was hauling him

to the office. She was talking so fast she never

46 JANE ALLEN:

saw me as I turned the corner. I was riding with
Winifred Ayres. We were out scouting for
banners for the field day. We must wind up the
season gaily."

"Plow the autumn has flown?" remarked
Nettie. 'Well, let me know what the girls say,
and see if you cannot recall them to home service.
It seems to me they should remem'ber the
Sororities."

"Oh, they will. Jane and Jude never desert,"
declared Dozia. "It is only a question of adjust-
ing their schedule. I believe all the field work
has to be c<^ red within a certain time." She
was on her ay to the letter box, and it was an
open secret that Dozia Dalton made more trips
to that box than any other senior except Mary
Wallace, who wrote poetry.

It was twilight, and knots of girls were hurry-
ing about, trying to crowd into the late daylight
a full day's programme of sports.

But down at the far end of the campus, in
that part of the college grounds rarely frequented
by students, Jane Allen was making her way
from hedge to path and back, crouching in what
ever shadows offered her protection.

"Isn't it lovely out here?" she was cooing to
the child she held so closely.

SENIOR 47

; dark," faltered the youngster.

"But Joy isn't afraid, are you, Joy?"

"Me is." This from Joy.

"Where's Grandma?" piped Jill. She was the
older of the two pathetically young students —
if all newcomers were to be considered students
at Wellington.

"Grandma is sick, you know," soothed Jane.
"And you are going to stay all night in this lovely
big house. Won't that be nice?"

"I's afwaid!" sobbed Joy, belying her name.
"I wants to go back."

At this Jane found it advisabi,fto sit down

. -,

in a particularly convenient spot , i talk more
seriously. She could not let the students see
her with her strange charges, but she must
smuggle them into Madison, somehow. Once
there she would depend upon Judith to help her
put over the night. It was a most heroic under-
taking but she had no choice, so it seemed to her,
at least.

So there in the privacy of the kindly old hedge,
Jane Allen tried to inveigle two rebel children
into admiration for a group of formidable look-
ing buildings, from which the youngsters instinct-
ively shrank.

"See all those girls " she was pointing out.

48 JANE ALLEN:

".Where's mama?" asked Jill, choking back a
sob.

Jane put an arm around the darling child. She
was so pretty, with such eyes, and such a hungry
heart-look.

"Mother will be back tomorrow. You know:
Grandma said she had to go "

"But she is so long," argued Jill, gulping
audibly.

"Dram'ma's sick," interrupted Joy. "Dram'-
ma cry and cry- She was trying on Jane's
hat and did not keep to her subject very
closely.

'Will we have — supper soon?" asked the
mature Jill, poking her head out to look at the
nearest building.

"Oh, yes," Jane was glad of the recommenda-
tion. "As soon as we go up into the big house
we will have supper," she assured them both.

"Then, why don't we go?" persisted Jill.

Jane glanced along the path. "Come on.
We may go out now. We were just waiting — "
She did not say "for the other students to leave
the paths," but Jane knew better than to risk
encountering a multitude, with those two precious
children, one on each side of her. Now she left
the hedge cave with a child clinging to each hand,

SENIOR 49

and dodged along as quickly and as safely as
opportunity allowed.

At the door she waited again. The girls were
hurrying in to dinner, and only a few stragglers
impeded Jane's direct passage into Madison.
The two little ones shuffled along, quite as if they
lhad been generally accustomed to acting without
understanding why. Only Joy dragged heavily
on her protector's skirts; but the tiny tot was
tired and even her good will did not insure speed-
ing up those big, stone steps.

Once within the hall Jane breathed more
freely. She paused and reassured the little
strangers.

Jill was exclaiming. "Oh, how love-el-lee!'1
Her small hands clasped and unclasped in admir-
ation. "See that great, big, white lady-statue!"

"Yes, that's our big queen lady," Jane bent
down to whisper. "She is the mother of this
great, big school."

Back of the marble statue of "Henrietta,"
Jane sought refuge. A belated student was
hurrying breathless to the dining room, but she
passed without observing the new group of human
statuary.

"I smell some'fin," sniffed little Joy. "Tan
we eat it?"

50 JANE ALLEN:

"Keep close to Janie and we will soon have
something to eat," promised the excited senior.
It was one thing to stand sponsor for the young-
est babes that, possibly, ever entered Wellington,
but quite another thing to bring them to table or
bring table to them. But important as that issue
was, Jane felt her first task should be to get the
children safely ensconced in room number nine-
teen. There she would depend upon Judy to
assist with the secrecy. At any rate, she must get
the babes up that one flight of stairs now.

"Come along quickly," she urged. "I'll carry
you, little Joy," she decided, and put an arm
under the slumping figure, while a pair of eager
arms almost choked her. Joy was so glad for a
:<lift." The stairs mounted, Jane hurried to the
room numbered nineteen. At the door she
tapped and Joy gave a little kick, Judy swung it
open.

"Jane Allen," gasped Judy.

"Hush! Judy, don't say a word! Let us in,
please," begged Jane, while Jill slipped in under
Jane's arms and Judy's astounded gaze.

"What is it?" demanded Judy. "Have you
raided an orphanage?"

"Oh, Judy ! I am almost dead !" gasped Jane.
"I have had to fairly crawl "

SENIOR 51

"We's terrible hungry," piped up Jill. "Can
we eat very soon?'5

"The darlings!" exclaimed Judith, dropping
down to put an arm around each. "Aren't they
adorable?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid they're starved," ex-
claimed Jane. "Judy, how can we get them
some food?'3

"Oh Jane, where did you get them?" Judith
ignored Jane's question, looking first at one and
then at the other little stranger. They were, as
she said, adorable, but they were also, as Jane
said, hungry.

Little Joy's lip began to tremble. "I want
Dram'ma," she uttered, each syllable demanding
an entire intake of her meager breath.

"You told Janie you would be — good, Joy- we,"
said the wise, little Jill, who, while obviously
older than Joy, seemed younger than anyone else
on earth, as viewed by Judith Stearns.

Jane had dropped into a chair but Judith had
not released the youngsters who stood beside her,
dazed.

"Just you wait and see what we will have
to eat in one single minute," Judith prom-
ised. "There's Cousin Janie and this is Cousin
Judy."

52 JANE ALLEN:

"Judy!" exclaimed Jill. "Oh! that's fun!
Where's the other one?'3

"Which other one?" asked Jane, glad of a dis-
tracting thought for the youngsters.

"The one that squeaks loudest/' exclaimed Jill^
clapping expectant hands.

"I don't know," faltered Jane puzzled.

"I do," sang out Judith. "She means Punch.
This is a Punch and Judy show, isn't it Jill?"
She squealed the tiniest, mouselike squeak.

"I dess so," she sighed. "I'm tired like
Joy-we, too," and she plumped down on the floor,,
contentedly.

"Let me take your cap off and your sweater,"
said Judith energetically. She had not been
through the exhausting experience Jane was suf-
fering from. "Then we shall have a lovely
party. Just you wait "

She was peeling off the blue sweater that en-
cased Joy, while Jill ripped up the two buttons
that held her in her own, then continued to rip
until she held the little garment in her small
hands. If she were timid, indications were being
politely withheld; only the big, blue eyes roving
around the strange room suggesting the child's
possible uneasiness.

"We will have to get food up here," Jane said

SENIOR 53

in an undertone. "Of course, you know, Jude,
I had no idea of fetching them here."

A sidelong glance from Judith answered Jane.
She knew whatever the explanation would be,
there was not the slighest doubt of it's being sat-
isfactory as far as Judy was concerned. The
situation was simply thrilling. Two babes with
but a single thought — something to eat!

"You stay with them and I'll forage," offered
Judith. "In the mean time let them play with
anything — there's part of a box of fudge Doze
sent. She is coming in after supper." This
voiced apprehension.

"She must not," Jane exclaimed. " Oh, Judy
I am almost —

"

'You are not, Jane. This is simply — delight-
ful. We will lock every one out and take care
of the kiddies. I only hope your schedule in-
cludes a night here. I am just dying to put a
baby to bed."

Thus she effectively banished Jane's immediate
anxiety. But there was plainly trouble ahead.

CHAPTER V

A NOVEL NUESERY

•

A FEW minutes later Judith returned to
the room, her arms embracing bundles
that mounted up, tower-like toward
her chin.

"Here we are!" she announced needless-
ly. "Now Janie, you spread the table, and
maybe Joy would like to sit up on that big
cushion."

"I like it," announced Joy, scampering up on
Jane's autographed pillow cover, done in the
college colors of favored boys.

"And can I sit over here," piped Jill, deco-
rously. She was on the arm of a chair that
brought her up in line with the mission table, just
being spread.

Jane laid out the paper napkins and soon the
tiny visitors had a splendid chance to betray their
home training, which they did — beautifully.

Joy wanted to stick her pudgy fingers in the

54

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 55

gooey cake, but no one could blame her, for only
two spoons were available, and "waiting turn"
was slower than the usual way supper is served,
especially to tiny tots.

"How did you manage all this?" Jane asked
presently. She was joyous in the task of dis-
tributing the bounty, and for the time being her
face shifted its shadows.

"I went right into the kitchen and there was
our friend Laura — she with the ashen coronet of
braids," Judith explained. "She loves to bestow,
and she kept piling things on me until I thought I
should have to call in the express man. How is
it all?"

"Wonderful, but not exactly a balanced diet,"
said Jane, trying to hide a cream cake that Jill
was spearing at with a paper cutter. 'We shall
have to be careful not to have sick babies on our
hands "

"Sick! Drand'ma's sick," spoke up tiny Joy,
slipping down from her initialed cushion and
making for the door.

"Oh, no, dear. You stay here with big sisters,"
coaxed Jane, a detaining hand laid gently
upon the little tousled head. "I have a lovely
dollie —

le '

«

Joy-we's dollie?"

56 JANE ALLEN:

"Yes," spoke up the sister who was still after
the cream cake. "You wait, Joy- we, and we will
give you another Chubby."

"Where?" Joy was the soul of brevity if not
of wit.

"Here!" announced Jane, exhibiting a real
kewpie in a bright red kimona — Dozia's idea of
a whist prize.

"Oh 'es, oh 'es!" said Joy, laying hold of the
prize, eagerly.

What was to be done when the supper was
over even Jane could not forsee. She knew the
little ones should go to bed, but how?

While Jill continued to eat and Joy devoted
herself to Dozia's prize, the seniors practically
held their respective breaths.

Judith broke the spell. "Can't you give me
a hint?" she asked. "I have been patient, Jane,
but I am not absolutely free from curiosity.
Where — did- -you get them?"

"My case," whispered Jane. "And I am so
anxious. I think I ought to 'phone. Their
grandmother was taken suddenly ill." This was
all she had an opportunity to say, for Joy un-
dressed the kewpie and was putting it to bed in
the china dish Laura had so magnanimously
loaned the party.

SENIOR 57

"Baff tub/' said Joy. "Me wash dolly," and
before anyone could intervene she had spilled the
only and last cup of tea over the helpless kewpie.
Judith wanted it but Jane needed it, now neither
cared for it, as it ran a bright, red stream all over
the china dish, and a generous splash slopped out
on the dark wood, and made a puddle on their
best table.

"Judy, you can go down to the dining room
now and have your dinner," suggested Jane. "I
can get along all right and I couldn't eat a
morsel myself."

"I don't believe I could either," said Judith,
considerately. "And it seems to me each of your
friends needs a special nurse, so I'll stay on the
case. All that is worrying me is, what we will
do when the girls call. They will simply go mad
over them. Aren't they adorable?"

It was time beyond count that JuditK Had
asked that very same question, and to eacli Jane
had made the self-same answer.

They were the "darlingest children." Joy, the
baby, had thick, brown curls that perfectly cork-
screwed all over her head ; her eyes were big and
brown and she had dimples. Jill, the elder, was
a blonde with bobbed, straight hair that always
looks so artistic if it looks well at all. Her's

58 JANE ALLEN:

did, and her eyes were like violets, and then, of
course, they were both beautiful in the very act
of being children. What child is not?

Each wore little rompers under the sweaters
that served as their travelling coats, and the
rompers must have been one pink and the other
blue, some time ago.

"They are- -so well — tended," remarked
Judith inadequately. She might have said some-
thing more definite but Jane understood.

"You should see — their " (she whispered

the word) "grandmother."

Jov was on the floor between a brace of cushions

•

but she must have heard or had recollections, for
she immediately yelled:

'I ywant my Drand'ma. I ywant her!" and
there followed unmistakably a cry — a very baby-
ish and promising cry. It was in the cleff that
runs up and down and takes in all the minors and
other notes of distress.

"There! There!" soothed Jane, snatching up
the little rebel. "Don't cry, darling. Janie will
sing for you "

"Don't want sing. Don't want Jay-nee!" and
the notes rose to flood tide.

Judith was dumfounded. Such a catastrophe
had never occured to her.

SENIOR 59

'What should we — do, Jill?" she besought the
sister.

"She's sleeply," explained the knowing older
sister, indifferently.

"Let me rock her," begged Judith. "Every-
one will be in "

"I can rock her," insisted Jane, rather breath-
lessly, swinging the baby dangerously near china
cups on the corner shelf, then detouring into a
bookcase.

'You'll kill yourself that way," objected
Judith. "Should we rock her, Jill?" It took
real shouts to get this across, over the top of
Joy's crying.

"No. She must go to bed in the dark. She has
to," insisted the dictator, scarcely turning from
her own chosen task of gathering up cake crumbs.

The students did not need to exchange glances
to exchange opinions. The air was rife with
queries and emphatic answers.

"Let me take her," begged Judith; and being
all but breathless Jane handed over the wriggling
youngster.

"Heavy!" she sighed, in relinquishing the
burden. "Judy, if we must rock her we ought
to make a hammock out of something," Jane
suggested.

60 JANE ALLEN:

A lull. Joy furnished intermission. She had
actually subsided.

"We must undress her," said Jane anxiously.
"I am sure she cannot sleep in those tight
rompers. See what a good little girl Jill is,"
with a grateful look at the child who was still
nibbling. Won't Joy-we let big sister put a
pretty nightie on?"

But Joy-we wras not keen on anything, nighties
included. She was cuddling up in Judith's arm
like the little lamb they had always expected her
to be.

"Sh-s-s-sh!" warned the successful nurse,
proudly. "She's almost asleep."

"But we must undress her," insisted Jane, the
Social Service student in action.

"And fix her up in your blue-bird pajamas?"
Judith managed to say. She lowered her knees
as carefully as if they were made of wet sand and
bound to crack; then across the slender lap of
blue satin, beaded in red and white, she smoothed
out Joy's doll-like form.

"How perfectly adorable!" It was Jane who
said it this time and Judith who simply nodded
her head.

Little Jill crept up to Jane's elbow. Because
Joy was smaller this little one seemed older than

SENIOR 6 1

she really was. Both were babies, only saved
from being twins by a year or so.

"I'm sleepy — like Joy-we," Jill said timidly.
"Can we stay all night?" She glanced furtively
at the inviting couch.

"Do you want to, Jill?" asked Jane, slip-
ping an affectionate arm around the small should-
ers. It was so satisfying to thus mother human
dolls.

"It's nicer here and I don't like Carol,"
ventured Jill, replying.

Jane lifted the child and held her close. 'You
shall — not go back to — Carol," she whispered.
"Carol does not know how to — to love babies,
I'm afraid."

"She's cross," said Jill. "And Grandma — is
sorry when she comes."

"Who is — Carol?" Judith managed to whisper
over Joy's form. She was taking off the small
shoes and smaller socks, in that fashion amateurs
have, fearful lest a raised toe might precipitate
more crying. The little form was stretched so
contentedly out on Judith's lap that even Jane
betrayed admiration for the picture.

"Carol," answered Jane, "is some friend of
Mrs. Jennings." There was a look of explana-
tion thrown in. "And I believe Mrs. Jennings'

62 JANE ALLEN:

mother dislikes the influence." It was a guarded
statement but Jill was all eyes and ears, turning
her head first to Jane, then to Judith.

"Oh," said Judith. "Does she live near
them?"

"No. But she visits — often." Jane now had
Jill's rompers off and was starting on the shoes.
'What shall we put them to sleep in?" she asked
presently. "I have been so anxious to get the
baby quiet I almost forgot they must be robed
in something. I think our pa jama waists will
be about the most useful, don't you?"

'Yes, but say, Jane. Isn't it a mercy the
girls didn't hear the yelling? They must have
had a pretty good dinner."

Just then Joy sighed so sweetly Judith put
her ear down close, so as not to miss the most
perfect of all music — a baby's sigh! The little
chubby hand brushed away an unconscious
shadow from the dimply face, and then a fat
little leg was drawn up so suddenly it bumped
right into Judith's smile.

"The darling!" whispered the potential
mother. "No wonder you wanted to go in for
this sort of thing, Jane. It's wonderful."

"If it did not carry so much responsibility,"
remarked Jane, her gray eyes blinking. "You

SENIOR 63

see, Judy, Mrs. Castbolt, that's the grandmother,
is a splendid woman, and the daughter — well, I
judge she is overdone with worry, and not quite
fit for it. Her husband died in the Canal Zone
last spring. I can't tell you much about it now,
but this Carol is sort of an evil influence. Wants
Mrs. Jennings to go in for the stage, or movies,
or some other foolish thing. Now Jill," (this
was said in a voice tones louder than was the
sentence directed to Judith), "shall we get into
a great, big, funny nightie? Not asleep! Oh,
there, open the eyes," Jill was getting heavier
momentarily. "We will be in a comfortable bed
soon," Jane assured her, trying to prolong
consciousness.

Judith digressed. "This is lovely," she said,
"but it makes me think of the day the doctor went
out and left me holding a violet ray tube, and I
couldn't call for help, and I couldn't lay it down.
How ever am I going to lay this little ray down
without striking contact?"

"I'll slip Jill over on the couch and get the
beds ready," proposed Jane. "But there's a
step. It's at our door!" she gasped.

A tap, and the door was opened. It was
Dozia.

She stood, speechless. Then she caught the

64. 'JANE ALLEN:

wireless signs, one from the tips of Judith's
fingers to her iips, and the other in a wave of
Jane's free hand.

"Kidnapers!" she whispered, stepping in and
closing the door noiselessly.

"Doze, you are just in time," said Jane in so
even a voice it did not even ripple the air.
"Come over here — and make a place for — my
baby."

Dozia did as directed. The couch cover was
turned back and Jill was laid, gingerly, in the
clearance. How expertly they worked?

"Now, help us make a place for Judy's baby,"
directed Jane. "We were helpless. Did not
dare disturb them. Just like having a live wire
on our hands." Whispers are unsatisfactory
when reproduced in commonplace print.

Dozia was moving around in a dazed sort of
way. She had too much confidence in both girls
to question the astonishing situation. Another
step in the hall sent her flying to the door.

"Put out a sick headache sign," begged Judith.
SHe was leaning over little Joy and absorbing
another of those angelic sighs.

Dozia scratched a sign and waited until the
passerby had passed by, then she stepped out and
pinned up the warning.

SENIOR 65

"Find the pajamas," ordered Jane. 'We have
got to get them out of these little shirts. I sup-
pose they should have been bathed."

"Not mine," objected Judy. "She's a real
little sport, and can yell better than the cheering
squad. I'll be satisfied with leaving the shirt on,
and putting a waist over it. Shall we cut off the
sleeves?"

Dozia understood the necessity. "Couldn't
we borrow anything better? Those waists will
swallow them," she predicted.

"But they must serve as an entire outfit," Jane
reminded the nurses. "And we had best not pro-
long the act. I'm as nervous as if I stole them."

".Where did you get them?" asked Dozia,
slipping up to Jane's shoulder. The conversa-
tion was being carried on in the gentlest of
undertones.

"Our case," Jane answered, venturing to lift
one of Joy's arms and aim the hand toward
Judy's big, crepe pajama sleeve. It wras in-
serted successfully, and she then tried the same
feat with the other hand and that act also was
achieved. All that remained for her to do now
was to slip the entire waist down under the sleep-
ing child. The size of the garment compared
with the needs of the wearer, made it an easy task

66 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

to get the sleeves on, but the rest would not be
so easy.

"Let me lift her," suggested Doze.

The request was granted. But as Joy felt
herself being lifted she subconsciously put two
warm arms about Dozia's neck, and the waist
went over Dozia's head !

"Mumsey!" murmured the child, drawing
down closer the radiant face that bent over her.
She did not open her own weary eyes.

"Lovey!" said Dozia, trying to free herself
from the improvised "nightie" without waking
the child. "Just wait 'till we fix it "

Jane deftly threw the waist over Joy's head
now, and while Dozia returned the affectionate
squeeze still being bestowed upon her willing
neck, the task was completed and Joy finally had
a night garment on.

The three students fell back simultaneously.

"And thousands are dressed and undressed
daily," sighed Judith.

"By thousands of mere, mortal mothers,"
whispered Jane.

4 That's what the whole, wide world has been
raving about since creation," Dozia said, in the
surest of low voices.

"Wonderful!" breathed Judith.

But the worst was yet to come.

CHAPTER VI

AN OFFICER OF THE LATV

IT was a new experience, decidedly. Whether
any one of the three girls had ever been in
close, personal contact with a real, live baby
before or not, was not known, but certainly each
did her best to apply the world old art of maternal
love to the little strangers.

"Just see her!" whispered Dozia, referring to
Joy who lay in Judith's bed, with that natural
right of inheritance peculiar to babes and other
pets. Her head came out of the pajama waist
and her feet came out from the coverlets, in a
fashion defiant to the real intentions of both.

"Cuddles!" breathed Jane, leaning fondly over
Jill who seemed assigned as her special charge.

"I can't understand how you got them here,"
pressed Judith.

"I can hardly myself. But girls, I am not
sure I am safe from criticism in doing so. We
were told explicitly, never to take a child in, even

67

68 JANE ALLEN:

for a night's refuge, without first notifying the
police," Jane said.

"And have them take these darlings to a horrid
station ?" exclaimed Dozia. "What sense is there
in that?"

"It makes a record," replied Jane, "and thus
far most of my work has been towards that end —
records. Of course I shall let Miss Morgan
know, as early as her office is open in the morn-
ing. That was my trouble. I took the tots to
her office and it was closed. Then I conceived
the idea of setting them up here for the night,"
she explained.

"And a good thing you did," commented
Dozia. She was still spellbound over Joy's toes.
The head of the couch might make a dangerous
whispering place, so the foot was chosen.

"What about this Carol?" queried Judith. She
was fondly smoothing out Joy's little rumpled
rompers.

"I am not exactly afraid of her," replied Jane,
"but I could easily suspect her of making trouble.
She seems set against anything named Service,
Social or just plain."

"I know the type," 'declared Dozia. "They
call anything that they do not do themselves, an
interference. What they do is purely a personal

SENIOR 69

kindness, of course. But who and what is she,
Jane?"

"A young woman with faded hair and abused
complexion. She has been at Mrs. Castbolt's
every time I went there. I never have been able
to get a satisfactory interview on that account,"
Jane complained.

'Where is the children's mother?" asked
Judith.

"She went off suddenly in search of a position.
She had to go hurriedly, I believe, as a letter
came requiring immediate answer in person. Her
mother, Mrs. Castbolt, is always able to take care
of the babies, but today she was taken with a
sudden, sharp attack of something, and I saw
she would need medical attention. I called the
Red Cross car and sent her to the sanitarium.
It is all we have in the way of a public hospital,
out this way."

"And you girls have had no dinner?" ex-
claimed Dozia, suddenly realizing that fact.
"Now, run down and beg from Laura. She's
as good as gold to the starving. Hun along, do,"
as Jane shook her head. 'What sort of showing
would you make on the morrow if you are
headachy?"

"Come on, Jane," coaxed Judith. "I hoped

70 JANE ALLEN:

for that cup of tea our youngest bathed the kew-
pie in — before the bathing. Now I need two
cups."

Jane was glancing furtively at the sleeping
babies. "I wonder if I did right? As I see them
here so cozy and — so hidden away, I am sort of
scary" she admitted.

"You scary!" scoffed Dozia. "Getting nerves
in with your new course. Run and eat. You
are getting starvation, that's what ails you. I
will do police duty, and woe be unto intruders !"
threatened the rerV ibtable Dozia.

Upon the bTTo girls insistence Jane finally con-
sented. Dozia looked the regular night nurse
as they left her, sitting there in the dim light,
on Jane's lowest chair, and between the two bed
couches. Glancing back as they left the room,
Jane and Judith smiled approval.

It is not important to state that the late diners
were accorded generous treatment at the hands
of the humane Laura, but the strength and con-
fidence so surely a part of the well-fed creature,
were needed conditions later that night, when
things happened, and to that necessity Laura
contributed in supplying the belated meal.

"My headache is gone," declared Jane in
grateful acknowledgment.

SENIOR 71

"I feel refreshed as — a baby," said Judith,
smiling broadly at the free use of the newly ac-
quired term.

"And if they want early breakfast," cautioned
Laura, "just run down to me. Or shall I fetch
it up — a small bottle of milk? I'd love to see
the darlings," she added, plaintively.

"It would be lovely of you to do that, Laura,"
said Jane, realizing what a glass of milk might
mean if procured early. "And, of course, we
want you to see the children. You know we had
to be so quiet about it " 'JCl^

"Oh, I understand," said Laur^ with a smile
that now, somehow, included the juvenile depart-
ment. Strange how every one understood con-
ditions where helpless infancy was concerned!

An hour later Dozia was banished and the two
Social Service students wrere curled up in the
two spots where room to curl was afforded them.
All sorts of suggestions had been made and dis-
carded. The babies would not be put to sleep in
big chairs, or even in improvised hammocks, al-
though Dozia declared she had seen it done in
autos and upon trains; yet Jane and Judith
declined to take their beds. They insisted upon
keeping outpost duty; rugs, cushions, coverlets
and even a coi:ple of sweaters to boot.

72 JANE ALLEN:

The children slept well — that was the first
happy consideration, and the students slept
equally well, when they found the opportunity;
that was an added blessing ; and for an indefinable
period of time there was nothing to complain of.
Then a commotion broke in upon the nocturnal
tranquillity. It was someone pounding at the
door!

"Miss Allen!" came a voice. "Wake up! It
is I, Miss Walker!"

Jane was awake. So was Judith, but it took
a moment or two for either or both to realize it.

"All right," replied Jane, raising her head
with a bump on the chair leg. She was so coiled
up she seemed under more than one chair, but
of course that could not have been.

"What's the matter?" asked JuditH. She felt
the subconscious tug of apprehension at her
sleepy senses. Then she realized the babies were
with them. That was it.

"Open the door,'' eame the summons.

Skillfully Jane extricated herself, and reached
the door. On her way there she pulled up the
night light.

"Oh, my dear young ladies!" exclaimed Miss
Walker, flashing her hand light unintentionally
into Judy's blinking eyes. "I am so alarmed!"

SENIOR 73

"What is it? Why?" asked Jane.

"There is an officer down in the hall — an offi-
cer!" The words seemed to presage disaster un-
speakable.

"About the — children?" gasped Jane.

"Yes, about children! What do you know
about them, Miss Allen?" There was dread and
terror in Miss Walker's voice.

"Why, I have two little ones here for the
night "

"Here?"

"Yes, why not? Isn't this my room?" spoke
Jane, although she knew perfectly well it was
not at all a question of room.

"But the babies? How could you bring them
in here?" gasped the house mother.

"They needed shelter," said Jane simply. She
refused to quake openly, although her knees
trembled secretly.

"This officer — demands — the children," said
Miss Walker. "Where are they?" She looked
at the couches and knew the tiny forms outlined
there were those of children, but obviously felt
the necessity of asking all her list of questions.

"He shall not take them," declared Jane noi;
too gently. 'Where is he?"

"You cannot go down — Miss Allen "

74 JANE ALLEN: ^

^ __jn__ M - . - . -

"Of course, I shall. I suppose, Miss Walker,
you know that my Social Service work is recog-
nized officially. I guess I can dispose of this
gentleman's demands." Jane was getting into
clothes and Judith was following her example.

"Why cannot you tell me — I shall give him
your reply?" urged the prudent woman.

"Oh, thank you, Miss Walker," replied Jane,
calm now and aggressive. "I think I had better
see him myself. I shall be ready directly."

The house mother stepped in and peeked at
Joy. She smiled. Her hand flash light had not
been turned off and it showed up that smile
beautifully. The magic of babes !

Little Jill turned over and murmured some-
thing like a whispering call. Judith was beside
her instantly.

"Sh-s-s-sh!" warned Judith. "We must not
wake them!"

"Oh, no, don't," begged Miss Walker, "If you
insist upon going down, Miss Allen, I shall go
along and wait for you. Please hurry."

Jane was hurrying. In a very few minutes
she was down in the first hall and answering the
officer's questions.

"You know, miss," he said kindly, "no one
can take a child into their home."

SENIOR 75

"Yes, I do know that, officer," said Jane,
equally kindly, "but these children had to go
somewhere, and the office of our Social Service
director was closed. I could not take them back
and keep them in that deserted house."

"You could not," agreed the officer, "and I see
no call, myself, for this disturbance. But you
know, miss, we have to do as we are bid."

"Who sent you out?" asked Jane.

"I had a call from the sergeant," replied the
law minion. "He said some waman was raising
Cain "

"Did he say who she was?"

"No. He did not. But you know, miss, young
women can raise a lot of trouble if a child ap-
pears— to disappear," he explained.

"Oh, yes indeed," agreed Jane. "I do know
that. But I took the children at their grand-
mother's request, and I am a regularly accredited
Social Service worker, with all the privileges
that go with that duty."

Miss Walker breathed easier. Jane did ap*
pear to know what she was doing after all.

4 'What did you intend to do? Were you actu-
ally going to take these babies out in the night?"
asked Jane in a shocked voice, intended also to
convey shock.

76 JANE ALLEN:

"Well, I'll have to report," evaded the officer.
"Could I phone from here?'3

"Certainly," eagerly replied Miss Walker.
"Step right into the office."

Jane stepped in with him. She wanted to
know who made the charge of abduction — he had
used the odious word.

It took an unusually long time to get in touch
with the officer on the other end of the line, but
it was finally accomplished. Then Officer Holmes,
who was thus describing himself to the listening
party, told that he had located the children, and
that they were in the custody of a Social Service
worker from the District Headquarters.

"Please ask who called up the police?" whis-
pered Jane.

The request was repeated by Officer Holmes.

"Blair?" he called back. "No, Sayre? Oh,
yes, Miss Dare?" he finally caught the name
given him. "The sergeant said it was a Miss
Dare."

"Carol Dare!" exclaimed Jane. "I thought
as much! Well, she has tried to interfere with
my work from the beginning, but this is more

definite. She actually accused me of "

'Well, you know miss," soothed the officer,
"they says most anything when a baby disap-

SENIOR 77

pears. Nothing touches the crowd like that
does."

Miss Walker was fidgeting. It was evident
she would like to be rid of the babies since that
seemed the safest stand to take.

"Who is Miss Dare?" she ventured aside to
Jane.

"Some young woman who has nothing better
to do than to make trouble," replied Jane bitterly.
"Mrs. Jennings, the mother of the children, has
been taking her advice about getting employment
but she had not found any as yet. I am glad I
have the children here. No matter what happens,
as far as I am concerned, it is better for the little
ones to be away from her. She would have no

more conscience about their food or care "

Jane trailed off into unspoken condemnation.

The officer was tilting up and down in that
way so descriptive of indecision. 'Well?" he
said looking from Jane to Miss Walker.

"What did the desk man say about it?" asked
Jane, abruptly.

"He said I might take a look at them and leave
them till morning."

"Very well," acceded Jane, while Miss
Walker said:

"But my dear—Miss Allen "

28 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

"Now don't worry, miss," the officer inter-
rupted, "everything will be all O.K. I never
knowed a child to stray off but the fire depart-
ment was called out," he chortled. "Folks does
get so fussy! But this new charity business,
social-what-ever-you-call it, is doing a grand
work." The officer might not have been socially
polished but his heart was sound, at least.

Jane promptly led him upstairs to "have a
look."

CHAPTER VII

WHEN; BABIES WAKE

THE babies were not disturbed. Officer
Holmes was evidently a man of family
and he knew better tl^an to risk the wrath
of a disturbed child. He just glanced in from
the door, shook his good natured head and smiled
broadly. True, Judith was worth smiling at,
as she spread her arms, pinion-like over Joy's
bed, and little Jill came very near opening an
inquisitive eye when Miss Walker spoke above
a regular whisper. But in spite of these possibil-
ities, the light was finally pulled down again,
and Jane accompanied the man of the law to the
front door.

"I intended to report very early at Miss Mor-
gan's office," she said, "but if you think best,
officer, I shall report at your office."

"Well, the worst of it is," explained Mr.
Holmes, "a young woman can be — spitey." He

79

8o JANE ALLEN:

sort of hissed his coined word. "I've known them
to stir up an awful rumpus over nothing."

"So have I," admitted Jane. "And this young
lady would be apt to do just that. Well, suppose
I go to your office first?"

"I would. That will be safer. Then, when
you have a talk with the sergeant you will — head
her off," advised the officer. "Anybody with half
an eye could tell it is all right for the young ones
to spend the night here. Abducting!" he scoffed.
"Pity a lot of others couldn't be abducted like
this," and he chuckled quite humanely.

"Abduction!" repeated Miss Walker, horrified.
"Miss Allen, I hope nothing will prevent you
from attending to this matter the very first thing
in the morning," she cautioned.

"Nothing will," replied Jane, shaking her head
in a way that might be variously interpreted.

The remainder of the night passed "like a fall-
ing star," Judith said, when she tried to open her
eyes next morning.

"I was the 'shoot' and you were the 'sparklers/
Jane," she yawned. "It went just like that."

But the children were both wide awake witK
all that the statement implies. They were crawl-
ing over their benefactors, and over the furniture.
They were asking all sorts of questions and mak-

SENIOR 8 1

ing all sorts of remarks, in fact if there is any-
thing more active than young children at dawn,
the specie has not yet been catalogued.

"Wait a minute, dear," begged Jane, when
Joy climbed up on the book case and sat there
with her chubby, little arms around Judith's one
piece of art, described as Venus but usually
called "Biffed." "Wait until Janie gets you "

"Pretty dolly," declared the usurper. "Joy —
we get dolly."

But Jane captured the climber. "What a tiny
handful but what activity!" she remarked.

"She should have been called Dynamo," said
Judith. "She is a self starter and spark plugger,
and all the rest. Now, see how good little Jill
is," she pointed out to the other inquisitive baby.

Jill was under the table and had the box that
used to hold fudge.

A tap at the door.

"My word!" exclaimed Jane. "Who can it
be "

"It's I, Laura," came the welcome news.

Judith reached the door first and Laura en-
tered simultaneously.

"I brought up the milk," said the non-com-
batant student. "What darlings!"

"Want them?" joked Judith. "I have had my

82 JANE ALLEN:

hand on this sock for half an hour — on and off,
but I still have some distance to go," she ad-
mitted, giving Joy's little sock a tug. "I never
knew socks were so violent.

"They are the most proficient wigglers I have
ever encountered," went on Judy. "Now Joy-we,
if we don't get socks on we can't get break-
fast. Breakfast," repeated Judith. "Do you
know what that means?"

"Means ohme-ohmy," said the toddler.

"Ohme-ohmy!" echoed Jane. 'What ever can
that be?"

'We eats it," said Jill, from her crumbs.

"Should we have it, whatever it is?" asked
Laura, anxiously.

"Oh, yes," affirmed Jill. "We just have to
have it — ever-ree day, ev-er-ree sing-gul day."

"Now children," orated Jane, "we must hurry.
Janie has to go out very err-ell-ee."

"That's right," chirped Judith. "I'm glad I
don't have to go. Not that Mr. Holmes isn't a
ver-ree nice ma-han

"Shall I fix up the table?" offered Laura, who
had been doing it all the time.

A nod approved.

"Now for the milk," called out Jane expertly,
and quite as if she expected her company to fall

SENIOR 83

to and lap up the big, chocolate cups full of that
health-giving fluid.

"Me eat ohme-ohmy," rallied Joy.

"I, too." said Jill. The personal pronoun was
beautifully acclaimed.

"Well, take the milk and the crackers and we'll
get the other — thing later," promised Jane.
"Come now — Joy."

But Joy had slipped down again and was turn-
ing over the leaves of a Latin grammar in search
of "pitters."

"I cared for children for a time," said Laura.
"I guess I can coax little Joy. Come now, baby,"
she said in her "coaxiest" voice. "Come and have
a lovely breakfast."

But Joy liked the books.

Then Laura attempted force. She stooped,
picked up the astonished child and sat her down
between two determined knees.

Joy tried to wiggle loose. "Just take one nice

cup of milk " cooed Laura, and she lifted

the cup.

The slightest move of a very small hand, it
could not have been intentional, but it sent the
milk down Laura's neck and brought it out the
patch pocket in her nice, white linen skirt!

"Oh!" exclaimed a trio.

84 JANE ALLEN:

4 'Give her to me," demanded Jane with asper-
ity. "How could Joy spoil Laura's pretty
dress?" she chided.

"No Joy- we, mooca," said the child like a little
Chinese.

"She means the milk did it," explained Jill.
She had dropped the candy box and was now
ready for her own meager repast.

Laura spilled the puddle out of her pocket into
Jane's fruit jar. There was a marked lack of
lig'ht housekeeping facilities at hand.

"I simply must run away and leave them here
with you, Judith," said Jane. "But how are you
going to get down to breakfast?"

"I'll stay," offered the good sport, Laura. "I
don't mind children at all, and I just love this
kind." She gave Joy a kiss on the top of her
head where the bath should have begun.

"Go along Jane, but eat first," counselled
Judith. "I think we will both have to be excused
from lecture this a. m. I feel as if I could give
one myself on home emergency economics."

Laura had retrieved Joy, and Jill was in the
chair with the elevation of cushions. Then the
eating did begin in earnest. Jane slipped out
and she wore street clothes, suitable for court, if
need be.

SENIOR 85

With the milk and crackers and two oranges
(Judith was not sure about oranges and milk but
Laura sanctioned the combination), the rebels
were fed, and only an occasional reference to the
"ohme-ohmy" disturbed the peace of the
family.

"I just wonder what that can be," mused
Judith. "Sounds like a Japanese cook."

"I wonder if it could be oat meal?" asked
Laura.

"That's it! Oat meal !" chirped Jill. "Joy-we
allus calls it the funny name."

"Oat meal!" repeated Judith incredulously.
"Of course."

'We shall have that next time," promised
Laura. "I say, Judy, I'll make some after the
things are cleared, if you think they could eat it."

"I am afraid they will not be with — us long,"
intimated Judith. 'You know we had no end of
a row last night." She had to talks in chunks.

"Oh, I see," said Laura. "Is that why you
didn't want to fetch them down to breakfast?"

'Well, that and other reasons," replied Judith.
"But I say, Laura, this Social Service business
is — strenuous. I thought the regular sports filled
in the home vacancy, but for a real, good, stiff
filling, try Social Service.

"

86 JANE ALLEN:

"Where's Dran'ma?" called out Joy. She was
climbing on the window sill and Judith was hold-
ing on to her scanty rompers.

"Grandma is sick," said Jill sharply. "Can't
you know anything Joy- we?"

"'Tourse I tan," said the voice from the
window ledge. "An' I goin' walkin' now," came
the surprising announcement.

"You can't go yet," shrilled Jill. "Don't you
know we haven't had our swim?"

"Swim," repeated Judith, ominously.

"Bath," elucidated Laura. "Can't we give it
to them?"

"Oh, I wouldn't dare!" breathed Judith.
"Please don't mention it."

'Why?" pressed Laura, evidently anxious to
give all her latent child knowledge an airing.

'Take those clothes off again?" whispered

Judith, for little Jill was observing, keenly.

'Why Laura Lee! You don't know what you

ask! Suppose the law should come in while we

were — operating !"

But Laura just hated to omit the bath; she was
not quite satisfied with the breakfast, and it was
almost a positive surety she would presently pro-
pose the promenade Joy had mentioned.

"Now Judith," came the preamble, "I'll take

SENIOR 87

care of them while you go down and eat. Run
along. You had an indifferent dinner last night
and you need to make up for it. We will have a
lovely time while you are away. Won't we, chil-
dren?" she crooned.

"Joy- we go to Dran'ma," said the youngest,
reaching for her cap. It was on the book-stand
and books came with it.

"Oh Joy, can't you know anything?" again
came the scorn of her older sister. Jill could al-
ways content herself. This time it was the in-
cense burner — the little black god with his mouth
open.

Judith was willing to relinquish her task at
the window. She loved children, as most girls
do, but she had had these two for "quite a spell,"
as Dozia would have said, and after all, even a
reverend senior is somewhat human — just in
spots, of course. Now, Judith felt unmistakably
human around the "risibles." Dozia again.

"Sleeping in a lump," she apologized, as she
prepared for the departure, "isn't exactly like
the usual downy, Laura."

"I could have brought two small cots, the fold-
ing kind," said Laura. Plainly the children
should have applied to Laura for their night's
lodging.

JANE ALLEN:

'There's someone," said Judith. Every step
towards her door gave her a start.

"It's I," said the unmistakable voice of Dozia.
"Here I come," she continued glibly. "Well, all
dressed an' everythin'!"

"You can stay with Laura," suggested Judith,
"while I go down. Jane is out — courting."

"Don't keep them prisoners in this room!" ob-
jected the girl who had slept in a bed. "Let's
take them down the halls."

"Oh, no. Please don't," begged Judith.
'They might — escape. I am responsible for
them. And you don't know what that means,
Doze. You couldn't."

'The idea! You are just frayed out, Jude.
These youngsters are going right out to be intro-
duced to Wellington," declared the energetic
student who had not been awake half of the night.
"Come along, Kiddies. Want to see the biggest
and best place on earth?"

"I yawnt to," agreed Joy, ready for anything
— once.

'I haven't got my hair combed right," objected
the mature Jill.

"Oh, your hair looks lovely," complimented
Dozia. "Couldn't be prettier. It is just as
even — as even," she hesitated, looking around for

SENIOR 89

more clothes* The rompers seemed rather inad-
equate but very effective.

"The risk be upon your own head, then,
Doze," threatened Judith. "I am away. Good-
bye darlings, and be lovely and good to mind
Cousin Doze and Cousin Laura. They will take
the best of care of you," declared the retreating
Judith.

A few moments later two students, Laura and
Dozia, paraded down Madison corridors with a
child each on the left side of each. The parade
was halted before it had gone three doors.

Every girl within sight, inside or outside of
the rooms that were being hastily vacated, rushed
to admire.

"Babes!" they exclaimed.

"Our kindergarten special," announced Dozia,
loftily.

"Cherubs!" sang out Norma, who was almost
on her knees and quite on her haunches greeting
the little strangers.

They liked it. Jill posed and even did a jerk
of a curtsey while Joy did not hesitate to accept
the <:cpiggy-back" Winifred offered.

"Come along outside," ordered Dozia, tHe
sergeant-at-arms. 'They need the early morn-
ing air."

A parade followed0

CHAPTER VIII

CURIOSITY AND THE GIKLS

IT was glorious while it lasted but it didn't
last long. The babes were gone and
Wellington was back to normal.
"Tell us about it, Jane, or we shall die of
curiosity," declared Nettie Brocton. She was
among those not present at the ceremonies of
giving back to Mrs. Castbolt, grandmother, the
children, Jill and Joy Jennings.

"Miss Morgan said I did perfectly right,"
Jane began. 'The children could not have been
left without proper protection, and that young
woman, who has nothing to do and all the time in
the world to do it in, would be the very last one
we should allow tiny tots to mingle with. We
did not succeed in giving them all the attentions
of juvenile life, but we did feed them; Laura saw;
to that. This Carol Dare — can you imagine the
person back of such a name? She would prob-
ably feast them on lobster Newburg."

90

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 91

'That can't be her name," commented Nettie.
"Isn't she an actress?"

"Not even," replied Jane. "She is sort of a
broker, goes around urging others to go in for
the stage." Jane was too tired to go out for her
regular day's work in the field so had been
excused for the afternoon.

"Did she appear against you?" asked Judith.

"No indeed. She sent along a letter to the
officer, and then he said 'All right.' He was the
most capable judge I have ever been up before."
She spread a hand over her face coyly.

"Agreeing with you — he would be," drolled
Judith. 'Well, I believe, Jane, you have, as the
modern poet would say, let yourself in for a lot
of trouble in this case. It is complicated with a
capital C. How about the youth? The hand-
some young man of pleasant memory?" asked
Judith.

"He's there," sighed Jane.

'Where?" demanded Nettie. Interest was
picking up.

'Why, he's somewhere," said Jane a little
drowsily.

'Who is he?" Nettie asked directly.

"Oh, we haven't named him yet," said Judith*
with a show of irritation.

92 JANE ALLEN:

"You mean the young man I am supposed
to interview?" Jane was off her guard now.

"That's the chap," chimed in Dozia. They
were in the gym but not in action. The long
bench held a group of the usual faithfuls.

'Well," Jane yawned openly, "I have his
address."

:'Lovely," chirped Nettie. "Let's have it,
Jane. We might be able to help you out. I
love that kind of Social Service."

'Whatever are you talking about?" Jane
sat up and rubbed her rebellious eyes. 'The
idea, of writing to a client of mine."

"Client!" yelled Ted Gutherie.

'Ye-ah," agreed Jane, slumping over on the
nearest shoulder. It belonged to Winifred
Ay res.

"Oh, you are positively mean, Jane Allen,"
pouted Nettie. 'There you go and get us all
keyed up and then drop us. What about the
young man?"

"I'll tell you when I find out, maybe," said
Jane. "Can't you understand that this is con-
fidential work?"

'But those children?" pressed the insatiable
Nettie. 'They surely were not confidential.
You had them right here in our midst."

SENIOR 93

"My midst," corrected Judith. "Jane, do
tell the pests about your wonderful experience in
court. How the officer glared at you and how
you, poor inexperienced girl, right fresh from the
ranks of Wellington " she moaned tragically.

"How you almost fainted when you heard
sentence pronounced," assisted Dozia, flippantly.
'Yes, Jane darlink, unburden your heavy heart
to me ; we are here to console."

"It's her head," complained Winifred, shift-
ing enough to joggle Jane from her recumbent
posture.

"It may sound funny," inserted Jane, "but I
should like to see one of you try the same little
lark. I am almost dead."

"It was the children," explained Judith elab-
orately. "They were so restless last night.
And the nurse would go out to the movies "

"Seriously Jane," begged Dozia. "What did
happen when you flew out this morning?"

"Just what I told you. The officer allowed
Miss Morgan to place the children in the care of
a worker while the grandmother convalesced. I
am sure we could not take care of them here."

"I am just as sure," agreed Judith. "But
where is the young mother?"

"She is not to be prevented from seeking em-

94 JANE ALLEN:

ployment wliich she is sorely in need of," declared
Jane. "She went after it the day her own
mother was taken ill. And Social Service is so
splendidly consistent it would not dream of re-
calling her. She must be given every oppor-
tunity to help herself and her young family."

"But that brother! At college!" scoffed
Judith. "He may be handsome, Janie, but I
think he's a slacker."

"I don't," said Jane simply.

"You're holding back," charged Dozia. 'You
would not say that if you had not good reason.
What is the extenuating circumstance? We
claim the right to know," sang out Dozia.

"Say girls! What is this! A trial by jury?"
flashed Jane. "I'm going home, and maybe to
bed. A little sleep would go a great ways with
me right now. And I have a lot to do tonight."

This broke up the party. But her compan-
ions knew Jane too well to believe that she was
telling them all the interesting story. Even
Judith seemed curious.

Nettie fell back with Ted. "It's all very well
to joke about it," she said, "but it is perfectly
plain that Jane has had a most strenuous time.
I told them that Social Service fad would be
simply terrible."

SENIOR 95

"Why, they have taken up the regular course,"
said Ted valiantly.

"Oh, yes, I know that. But Doze promised
she would coax Jane back to help with the prom
arrangements. You ought to know that I miss
the experienced crowd. I am rather new at
work, and there's such a heap of it," Nettie
complained.

"I don't agree with sending the tickets through
the mail," commented Ted. 'We did that once
before and got a lot of undesirables."

'We have to help the fund, and I am sure our
families and immediate friends could never fill
up a prom," said Nettie. "Well, I have a good
working committee on the music and the decora-
tions. That helps."

"Thanks," said Ted. "I'll do my best. But
with real babies invading, and handsome young
men in the offing, it seems to me even a first
class prom may seem tame."

"Oh, Jane and Judy will be back in time for
the actual event," forecasted Nettie. "It's these
endless arrangements," she sighed, deeply.

"Is there really a young man in this case?"
said Ted, cautiously.

"I believe so. But as far as I can see it is
the young woman. She who tried to make

26 JANE ALLEN:

trouble for Jane. I would be on the lookout
for her. It is a remarkable but positive fact
that some persons take delight in upsetting the
good work of others. She may have a motive,
of course."

"They call it 'ulterior,5 " joked Ted, "but it
seems to me it is worse than that."

"I am sorry I missed seeing the youngsters,"
went on Nettie. "I happened to be out exercis-
ing this morning. When I came back the place
looked like the night after a fire. Everyone was
so excited. And it was nothing, more-nor-less,
than the visit of two pretty children."

"Oh, yes it was. There was a midnight call
from an officer, and you know how dear old Well-
ington takes a thing like that. Goes right off
into kinks of consternation," declared Dozia.

"And Miss Walker was on," added Ted.
"Well, I missed that. A lot of things happen
in Madison."

But a lot more things were happening out-
side of Madison ; for only a few days later devel-
opments in the girls' cases were crowding so
closely one upon the other, that Jane, at least,
found her capable hands rather full.

In a stately little homestead just beyond the
city limits, Mrs. Castbolt was regaining her

SENIOR 97

fragile strength. Attending to her wants a
sister hovered about, the same type, the same
voice and almost the same personality. She had
been called from a distance to fill in the place
left vacant by Mrs. Jennings, mother of the two
interesting children.

"I cannot understand why Mabel should stay
this way," faltered the visitor. 'You say a
young girl is watching dear little Jill and Joy?"

".Yes, Mary. Mabel has been heart sick.
One can't blame her, after losing such a fine
husband." A pause rendered fitting tribute to
the lost one. "But I was glad to have her take
the trial. It may give her heart," said Mrs.
Castbolt.

"And you had to apply to — charity?" Mary
asked, in a shocked tone.

"Oh, no sister. It was not charity" replied
Mrs. Castbolt hastily. "The young lady called,
and her father knew our — brother."

"Our brother, indeed. I don't see how you
can speak of him so calmly. He and his
millions."

"But they are his, and he worked hard for
tHem— I "

"Jennie, if you are going to defend Reynolds
there is no use continuing this conversation." said

98 JANE ALLEN:

Mary decisively. "I can never look at the
matter as you do."

"Well, sister, since you feel so bitter I shall
not mention the subject again. But your
nephew, Renny, his namesake, and Mabel's
brother, must be considered. What are we go-
ing to do about him?"

"He is as headstrong as his uncle," replied
Mary. "I don't see how anything we may say
will ever influence him."

"So we won't spoil your visit with any more
of my troubles," said Mrs. Castbolt, kindly. "I
am sure it was too good of you to leave home so
unexpectedly."

"I have been wanting to come, Jennie, but I
am sorry to find you laid up. We can't run
around like we used to," sighed the visiting sister.
She was a tall, stately woman, gray to snowy
whiteness, as was also Mrs. Castbolt. Their sur-
roundings were as genteel as their personalities,
and it was not strange that such women should
resent the word "charity," as applied to
themselves.

It was upon this scene that Jane intruded a few
minutes later. She was coming for her private
interview, and the troublesome Miss Carol Dare,
she who tried to show Jane incompetent in tak-

SENIOR 99

ing the little ones into Wellington, she was sure
to be out of the way this time. She was off to
the city following what she had called an
"important clue."

Jane was made comfortable by the ladies.
Mrs. Castbolt had shown a decided preference for
this sunny-haired girl, and with her, at least,
youth was not an objection.

"You are so much better," Jane smiled.
"Having your sister is just the thing to cheer
you up."

"I have you to thank for that," said Mrs. Cast-
bolt. "I should not have sent for her had not you
insisted."

"And you were right, my dear," chimed in
Mary, whose full name was Miss Webster. "I
was glad to come but sorry, of course, to find
sister so ill. But we will soon have her all right
again. She has been having too much worry
and no one to share it with," finished the visitor.

"I came today to see if I could not share it,"
said Jane. And just then she did feel pitifully
young.

* .-*._ , •» * j ~»

CHAPTER IX

THE FIRST INTERVIEW

JANE explained why she had to ask so
many questions.
"I thought at first," she said, "it was go-
ing to be difficult to be so inquisitive, but as one
gets into the work, I find myself so interested,
and I am so anxious to have my case turn out
satisfactory I just follow the rules without
any embarrassment."

"I wish I could tell you what a relief it is to
share our confidence with someone who is able
to advise," said Mrs. Castbolt, her tired eyes say-
ing more than her words. "Before you came,
Miss Allen, I just thought, and thought until
my brain would take no more orders. It ran
along a tangent. Even my sick spell did not seem
so overpowering when I knew you were taking
care of the children," she sighed.

Jane laughed a little. It was necessary to toss

IOO

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 101

in as much merriment as could be reasonably in-
serted, otherwise the interview would become
drab and gloomy with sordid details.

"I had such a time with the tots," she confessed.
"The girls at college simply went crazy over
them, of course; and they were as good as gold."

"Really, were they?" asked the grandmother.
"Jill told me Joy wanted everything within
reach. The poor tots have been knocked about
quite a little since their good father passed
away." Mrs. Castbolt sighed heavily and her
sister, Miss Webster, echoed the sentiment.

"Harry was such a wonderful, fine man, but
he had that temperament ; all boy. He could not
see far enough ahead to plan for this awful con-
tingency. Sister, here, always felt that Mabel
would do something with her own talent. You
see we are both seminary girls," there was pard-
onable pride in her voice, "and when Mabel
graduated from college we felt she would study
further. But these young folks!" another sigh.
"She was married the very year she graduated!"

Jane sighed herself. Married the year she
graduated! The clause repeated itself. Just
imagine !

"And you were seminary graduates?'3 asked
Jane, referring to the mother and sister. 'Then,

102 JANE ALLEN:

of course, your daughter, Mrs. Castbolt, had
many influential friends to call upon?"

"Yes, she has. Eut Mabel is very — proud.
She will not make her plight known. Her
brother, Renny, will soon be finished at his
college, you know, the two are as chummy as
they were when children." This was all mother.

"We could relieve the whole situation," inter-
rupted Miss Webster, "if we could only get our
own brother to alter a very stubborn mind.
Although he is our only brother, I must say
it. He does not treat us as he should. All our
parent's means were spent in educating the
family. Then our brother, with that education
as a background, acquired wealth. He has done
much for us, helped sister, who was left a widow,
when very young, to educate Mabel and Renny,
but he has such unalterable opinions "

'The fact is he did not like my husband," said
Mrs. Castbolt bravely. "Now, I don't feel I
can go to him when Mabel has been left just as
I was."

"And Renny, his name is Reynolds, called
after this very uncle," explained Miss Webster,
"he is so high spirited — well, I simply cannot ex-
plain the situation," she ended disconsolately.

"I think you are very wise not to interfere

SENIOR 103

with your son's getting his degree," said Jane.
"If he is armed with that from such a college, he
will have no difficulty in obtaining a splendid
position. I have heard father say they just wait
for the boys to finish there, then take them right
into important mining positions."

"You're father is a miner?" asked Mrs. Cast-
bolt, eagerly.

"He is retired, but was a miner. He still lives
out on the big mountain. I believe he knows
your brother," added Jane.

"Not Henry Allen?" exclaimed Miss Web-
ster. 'Why, what a small world this is? I
remember when Henry Allen came to visit our
brother. Don't you remember, Jennie?"

"Since I knew a Miss Allen was our good little
angel," she paused to allow a smile its chance,
"I have been wondering. It is really brother's
friend!"

"Yes, I have had a letter from dad. He was
not too keen on my going into this work, but
agreed just as soon as he heard it was to touch
upon the needs of a friend," Jane paused and
tossed her head up. "Don't you think we are all
selfish after all? Don't you think, ladies, we are
prone to stand by our friends?" she inquired,
kindly.

104 J^NE ALLEN:

"That is exactly why your organization is so
much needed," replied Mrs. Castbolt. "With
you everyone in need is your friend."

"I do hope you will feel just that way about
us," said Jane warmly. "Then I will not have
any trouble in asking all these seemingly confi-
dential questions."

"But I cannot get over your father being
Henry Allen," said Miss Webster. She was
agasp with surprise.

"And he is about the same boy, I fancy, he
must always have been," said the affectionate
daughter. 'You see, I have to make a note of
the family connections. It helps so in prescrib-
ing. Don't you think our work is a wonderful
new profession! We do about what a doctor
does, it seems to me."

'Yes, you get the symptoms and prescribe the
remedy," agreed Mrs. Castbolt. "But do tell
me about Jill and Joy? When shall I go out
to see them."

'Whenever you are able," replied Jane. "I
hope I shall be able to go out tomorrow after-
noon. They are the dearest children for adjust-
ing themselves to their environment," declared
Jane.

'That's because they have had so many homes

SENIOR 10 5

lately/' said Mrs. Castbolt, with her tired sigh.

Jane prodded herself mentally and started out
boldly to cover her assigned task. She must ask
a lot of questions and in their answers find the
key that would, she hoped, solve the problem of
the Mrs. Castbolt's and her daughter's, Mrs.
Jennings', unusual difficulties. When the case
was first handed over, it resembled so many others
that no special plans were made to handle it, but
soon it was discovered that two mothers, Mrs.
Castbolt and Mrs. Jennings, were affected, that
two tiny children had their home threatened, and
the acknowledged aim of Social Service is to
build up the original home. Besides this, there
was a young man at college who should be kept
there at least a short time longer. How to do
this without actually tapping a charity fund —
the very last resource of the system that knows
the real value of self-respect for the individual —
all this now confronted Jane, as she bravely un-
dertook her important work.

Back of the apparent troubles was still another.
!A note was due and overdue and unless prompt
steps were taken at once the pleasant little home
would belong to strangers.

After a few moments' conversation, Jane un-
earthed a clue. In the Social Service code a

io6 JANE ALLEN: ^^

"clue" has its place on the list of important
outlines.

"And this young woman, Carol Dare," said
Jane gently. "What is her connection with
Mrs. Jennings' business?"

Mrs. Castbolt drew her lips into a firm, hard
line. "She knew Mabel, my daughter, and also
my son," she said in a low voice. "Somehow she
also got acquainted in my brother's office, I don't
know just how, perhaps she worked there, but
since she has been running here and perhaps run-
ning there, there is no telling what mischief she
has stirred up."

"She may have influenced our brother against
us," said the younger woman. Reynolds Web-
ster is stubborn but he was always just," she
continued, "and he would never see Jenny in this
predicament, actually losing her home, without
coming to her aid."

Jane thoughtfully made a few more notes.
She knew how adroit a young woman could be in
the matter of stirring up trouble, and it was
evident Mrs. Castbolt was not telling all she
knew about Carol Dare.

"You see," said Miss Webster. "I have
enough for my own needs. I am willing to share
that "

SENIOR 107

"Sister!" checked Mrs. Castbolt. 'You have
done too much already. It is no easy matter to
support four helpless people. My idea in seek-
ing aid was merely to obtain it as a loan — until
Renny could graduate from college," she said

again.

'Unfortunately there is no fund for such a
loan," said Jane. In her brief experience she
had found more than one appeal for loans, just
for a short time. But such arrangements are not
standardized.

'Then you can't really do anything?" Mrs.
Castbolt asked timidly.

"Oh, indeed we can," said Jane cheerfully.
"But the usual procedure must be gone through
with. You see, it is all so new to me I am not
efficient as the others might be, and it takes me
longer."

"We will like you all the better for it," de-
clared Miss Webster. "We would hate to have
anyone come in here and just ride over us," she
declared with asperity.

'When can I see Mrs. Jennings?" Jane asked
next.

"She promised to come back yesterday," said
her mother. "I am worried about her. She is
so temperamental and so proud."

io8 JANE ALLEN:

"But she wouldn't nelect the children!" said

Miss Webster indignantly.

"Not consciously," replied the mother. "But
this Dare young woman has such a way about her.
Mabel does not really like her but she held out
such promises." Mrs. Castbolt was plainly in
mental distress.

"Did Mrs. Jennings go to the city with her?"
Jane asked.

"She was to meet her there," said Mrs.
Castbolt.

"Has she sent you any word?"

"A message the first night she was away. It
was the next day that I was taken ill. Others

may have come " The mother paused,

agitated.

"Could a mother abandon her darling little
ones?" Jane wras thinking, and as if Mrs. Cast-
bolt divined her thoughts she spoke again:

"Of course Mabel will return the first oppor-
tunity. You see, Miss Dare made the plans."

"Just where is Mrs. Jennings now?" asked
Jane bluntly.

"She went to a school — a school of acting, they
called it."

"A school of acting?" There was surprise in
Jane's voice.

SENIOR 109

"Yes." Mrs. Castbolt compressed her lips
nervously. "Miss Dare made an agreement,"
she continued, "we were to furnish the money and
she was to get my daughter a position with a good
salary."

"And it cost two hundred dollars " inter-
rupted Miss Webster. It was very plain Miss
Webster did not agree with the doings of Miss
Dare.

"yes," said Mrs. Castbolt, shaking her head
and brushing something from her eyes. "It
was — our last "

Jane now saw what she had been searching for.
It was the fact that Carol Dare had taken the
money from these people and made rash prom-
ises to young Mrs. Jennings. She may have
been honest enough in her intentions, but that
money would have forestalled the immediate
danger of foreclosure.

"Could anything have happened to Mabel?"
asked Mrs. Castbolt. She addressed both Jane
and Miss Webster.

"Now sis, don't you go getting all worked up,"
cautioned Miss Webster. "I am afraid you have
been doing too much for a sick woman."

'Yes," said Jane, rising, "and I hope I have
not been too — troublesome. But the only way

no JANE ALLEN:

we can help is to be armed with all the facts.
Might I ask one more question?"

"Certainly, my dear," said Mrs. Castbolt. "I
do not feel badly at all. It is the thought of our
little store being gone and that my daughter may
be miserable in the city, worrying "

"Mabel is no fool," said Miss Webster. "She
will discover soon enough, whether this is a real
position or some fraud. Of course, I should
never have agreed to her taking up the
stage "

"But the children both have dramatic talent,"
interrupted Mrs. Castbolt.

"Has your son?" asked Jane. Somehow she
felt this was a leading question.

"Oh, yes indeed," spoke the proud mother.
"Renny is head of his college dramatic club and
has done some very fine acting."

"And lost you your brother's opinion by doing
so," said Miss Webster, primly.

Again Jane wondered. She lifted her gray
eyes first to one and then to the other woman.
What a strange mixture! Dramatic talent,
gentility, education and now perhaps — poverty!
Her sympathy was confusing her judgment.

"Renny has had more than one offer for the
professional stage," said his mother suddenly.

SENIOR 1 1 1

"And only last week he sent us fifty dollars he
had earned substituting for some actor."

"And is Miss Dare an actress?" asked Jane.

"Oh yes," again. "She met Renny when he
played with his college club and she was very
anxious to have him keep to the stage. She
promised him all sorts of inducements." The
mother's enthusiasm was easily understood.

So Miss Dare had designs upon Kenny's
dramatic talent! Could that be the real motive
for her interference?

A few more questions completed the report
for Jane's first formal interview, and when the
data had been obtained she took leave, for the
time, of her client and the helpful Miss Mary
Webster.

CHAPTER X

THE INTERESTING DISCOVERY

A THRILL of interest akin to excite-
ment, swept over Jane as she went back
to Wellington. Judith met her; she
herself was returning from her field work.

4 What's new?" sang out Judith.

"A lot of things," replied Jane. Her voice
vibrated with energy and when that quality was
manifest at the end of the day it indicated one
thing: Something startling!

Judith sidled up to Jane. "Well, unburden
your conscience," she ordered. "I know you
have solved the mystery."

"Not quite," replied Jane, "but I have a clue.
And Judy!" she paused to swallow a chuckle.
"It's your handsome young man!"

"Oh, that's nothing new," scoffed Judith. "I
told you that from the first. They are always
at the bottom of problems. What's his name?"

"Renny," replied Jane.

112

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 113

"Renny," repeated Judith. 'That sounds
foreign."

"It isn't though. It's plain American Reyn-
olds, Renny for short. Like it?"

Judith sniffed. She was not going to appear
too interested. Jane took the cue and walked
along indifferently. Girls were flocking into the
campus, greeting each other with shouts and
hails. There was danger of someone tagging
along, so Jane hooked her arm into Judith's.

"I don't want to answer a lot of silly ques-
tions," she remarked. "Let's run along."

"Not afraid of mine?" returned Judith. "I
haven't quite finished on this Renny boy, but I
am not in any particular hurry, Jane," she
parried.

"How did you make out?" queried Jane,
politely.

"Bagged two more youngsters. Such nice, in-
teresting little chaps, too. I might have pro-
posed going into retirement and waiting for one
of them to grow up. He has the most attractive
little limp, and rolls his eyes like a movie com-
edian. He really almost won me over to his
side," admitted Judith. "He wants to go to
work in the licorice works. Says his grand-
mother has a cough."

JANE ALLEN:

"Small boys always have grandmothers," said
Jane. "I remember one little chap who was for-
ever staying home for his grandmother's funeral.
But how do you like it, Judy?"

"A lot better than fudge parties. And I am
glad that girls do not, as a rule, play hookey. I
should hate to have to cope with girls. They are
so — adroit." The last word was rolled with
marked elocutionary effect.

"I find it even more strenuous that I had ex-
pected," admitted Jane. "And Judy, after din-
ner, will you confer with me? I just have to be
advised - "

4 Your young man?"

".Yes, I don't feel quite capable of handling a
case with a young actress and your actor-man
involved," said Jane, girlish pride asserting
itself.

"Jane! Never! You haven't struck anything
so wonderful!" exclaimed Judith. "I won't care
for any dinner. I shall come right into your little
den, my head and heart given freely — digestion
and the rest of it flung to the winds - "

"But the meeting?" interrupted Jane. "We
have got to attend that."

"Oh, so we did — promise," moaned Judith.
'Well, Nett deserves to be helped. She has been

SENIOR 115

working day and night, and the whole class con-
sider us — slackers."

"I told Nettie I would come in when the pre-
liminaries were all fixed up. We have been on
the committees every year, and I feel it is time
now the others had a try," said Jane. " Still, we
must show an active interest at this stage."

"But joking aside, Jane, you have to go on
with this case and perhaps you would feel better
to talk it over even with silly me. Miss Morgan
said we could discuss our cases together, but I
don't mind telling you right now, I have one
that's a secret. If I ever told you about it you
would be sure to veto my plans. Just wait till
you hear!" promised Judith. "No case was ever
so thrilling."

"Judy dear, I hope you are not carrying your
jokes into the ranks of Social Service "

"Jokes! Jane Allen! How dare you? This
is no joke. You will die of envy that you did not
conceive the idea yourself. There! I am not
going to give you the least hint. But just wait!
Wait until you see the scheme carried out. Then,
oh Wellington, sit up and note my triumph!"

Jane knew Judith was in earnest. She vaguely
wondered what the big exciting scheme might
mean, but her own case was too absorbing to ;

n6 JANE ALLEN:

allow of definite distraction even at the other
prospect.

The girls parted in the corridors, Judith slip-
ping off to hold secret conclave with some "ac-
complice," and Jane reporting at the office for
having omitted a lecture that afternoon.

Once within the hall the two students of Social
Service were besieged with the excited commit-
tees all working for the success of the mid-year
prom. There was Nettie, she insisted Jane and
Judith take their regular places on the distribu-
tion committees, to make sure the invitations went
where they should and did not go where they
should not.

Even dinner hour was given over to snatched
conferences, for the Wellington prom was not,
by any means, a small affair, it never had been
and would not be this time at the hands of Nettie
and her followers.

So it was not possible for Jane and Judith to
slip off and make up their notes on Social Service
as they had wished to do. In fact, it was two
whole days later before they could so much as
take even recreation time to themselves. It was
one round of meetings, conferences, directing
cards, filling out lists, and even attending to
printing — Judith had always been on the print-

SENIOR 117

ing committee and she could not beg off now.

These details, however, differ so slightly from
all of their kind as to be interesting only to those
immediately concerned. It was the case of
"Blighted Prosperity' as Judith facetiously
termed Jane's case, that held particulars of vital
general interest. Of this we must hear the
details.

"You don't mean to tell me you are afraid,
actually afraid to tackle that angle of it, Jane?"
asked Judith, her face as surprised as her voice —
ostensibly.

"I didn't say afraid, Judy. I said it did seem
a little bit too complicated for a mere beginner.
I know I have been given this case on account of
father. The rich, old uncle figures very definitely
throughout, and he has always been a friend of
dad's. Besides this, I have dad to consider from
my own, personal interest. He would not want
me to go into this course if he did not know ex-
actly what I was working upon, and I would not
ithink it fair to deceive him."

I see: a double incentive," mused Judith.
Now, my folks are simply glad to know that I
happen to be kept busy, think it is sort of a char-
ity to me to give me something useful to do.
They have not an idea what the ultimate out-

"

"

n8 JANE ALLEN:

come will — do to — them." Judith pulled her face
into an original expression. It was not hers by
nature.

"But Judy," Jane shifted into a position that
made preparation for an extended controversy,
"I find that Carol Dare is twined in and out of
this Jennings-Castbolt affair like — a poison ivy
vine. Every time I drag out a root of the trouble
in one place, it catches on somewhere else."

"Of course she's in love with Renny," said
Judith cooly. "That's the main issue,, you'll
find," she declared finally.

"I don't think it is," said Jane seriously.

"Why?"

"Some other young man pays all her transient
expenses, like cab hire and all that. Not that
she wouldn't let a man do that much without hav-
ing serious designs upon him," said Jane quickly,
"but she really seems quite devoted to him."

"Then you have seen the 'loidy'?" Judith sat
up straight and threw a wild look at the defense-
less Jane.

"Yes, for a few moments. She and Mr. Scott
drove up grandly to the Castbolt home just as
I was leaving. I could not turn back though I
knew well the pair might try to undo most of
what I had been trying to do in the two hours

SENIOR 119

previous. Oh, I tell you, Judy, this business of
interfering in other folks' affairs is trying,"
sighed Jane.

"Faint heart never yet won an important case,"
said Judith, "and I can never imagine a heart
like yours being faint," she finished.

"You don't know it," replied Jane. "But
then "

"What's the real worry? I see you have not
enough confidence in me to blurt it out," Judith
challenged.

"Can't see that you are 'blurting out' your case
either," retorted her companion. A good natured
chuckle evened up the debate.

"But I shall, as soon as it's all ready; all set,
as Doze says. And it is almost ready, Janie.
You will certainly be surprised," she promised
again.

"Did you know, Judith, that our handsome
young man is an actor of no mean ability?" came
the sensational question.

"Oh-o-o-h!" gasped Judith falling in a heap.
"An actor! Jane Allen! You get all the luck!"
she crumpled down further into the comfortable
cushions.

"But in this case it is not lucky," continued
Jane. "You see, he is reported as being so fine,

120 JANE ALLEN:

so manly and all that. But the ability to act
usually brings — temptation." The wisdom was
assumed.

"It should," said the incorrigible Judith. "If
I made a hit in our play last year I would not
be here now, figuring out old, gloomy, Social
Service cases. I'd be counting the lights in some
glittering "

"And Mrs. Jennings is, I am afraid, chasing
that rainbow made of stage promises," continued
Jane, ignoring the phantasy, 'The family funds
were actually depleted to a standstill in order
to satisfy a demand made by Carol Dare. I
found that much out after difficult probing.
Now, any girl, even a f reshie, would know better
than to put money and confidence into that sort
of thing," complained Jane with obvious scorn.

"But Jane, darlink, I have always found that
lack of brains goes with real talent. Business
ability and talent seem at odds, usually. You see,
this Mrs. Jennings wants to act, therefore she
cannot see the significance of conserving the
family dollar."

'You are right, in spite of the levity, Judy.
Folks who want to go on the stage seem to over-
look every other consideration. But what bothers
me is, how a mere senior at Wellington is going

SENIOR 121

to adjust matters. Dozia would call it 'bustin'
in.' Pardon the digression."

"Certainly, but don't lose the trail," Judith
replied.

"As I was saying I cannot see how 'merely me'
is going to intrude with a lot of rules, and stand-
ards, and break up such a powerful combination
as that made by this Miss Dare. She has Mrs.
Jennings so hypnotized she actually induced her
to leave those children with their grandmother;
you want to remember that, Jude."

"No, I want to forget that. Didn't I sleep on
the floor a whole, mortal night?"

"You did, dear, and you will be blessed for it,
if there is any reward for virtue going around.
But what would you advise me to do? You see,
I have these facts," she called off. "Mrs. Jen-
nings is apparently under the influence of Carol
Dare. The latter is promoting some moving pic-
ture or theatrical enterprise ; the children of Mrs.
Jennings and her mother also must be cared for,
Mrs. Jennings claims she is trying to earn an
honest living, that she has talent for stage or
pictures and that she should be allowed to try
out her talent."

"Oh, do breathe Jane. When you get going
you— go."

122 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

"I feel like a cabinet of stale news," said Jane,
"and it is a relief to release some of it. The
really queer part of the whole thing is that the
son, Renny, sent home money from his own the-
atrical performance, and since the uncle has found
out he is inclined to take stage parts he is simply
furious, and has deserted the entire group."

"The old bear! Why shouldn't a boy earn
money with his college team that way, when he
needs it?" asked Judith, indignantly.

"And Mrs. Castbolt says the Dare lady brings
messages back and forth from the banker's office.
Now, how does she get in there?"

"Perhaps she substitutes for an office girl. I
tell you honestly, Jane Allen, you will find the
real motive moving the Dare creature is what is
commonly called Love. Of course it is not really,
but it goes by that name in polite society. The
other name for it is Vanity."

Jane knit her browrs. Judith was imparting
knowledge in her own jolly way. Jane was ob-
taining advice in her own simple trusting man-
ner. So they planned and planned, with no
thought of the possible consequences, but with the
optimism of youth; while the threat of actualities
hung over them like a sword with the silken
thread.

CHAPTER XI

THE ADOPTION OF GRANDPA TODD

NOT all the experiences, nor all "the luck,"
was to go to Jane. Judith was working
against any such contingency. Not even
the prom with its numerous and endless duties,
prevented her from making a public demonstra-
tion of her intentions two days after her confer-
ence with Jane.

That Jane had to talk things over was easily
understood, for the Jennings case was assuming
new angles of complications almost daily. Not
the least of these was that bringing Carol Dare
and her questionable interest to the fore; but
Judith's work thus far had been confined to de-
linquents, in the persons of children who stayed
away from school without sufficient cause. The
country in late fall and early winter holds a
strong lure for energetic youngsters, and Judith

123

124- JANE ALLEN:

Stearns was called upon to use her own best
energies to combat the beguiling influence.

But she did not intend to work solely among
this juvenile element. She proved it.

The committees were all assembled in the gym
when Judith broke in. Her eyes were dancing
and her cheeks blazing. There might have been
guilt in the evidence but there was also joy — joy
defiant.

"Come on, Grandpa Todd. Don't mind the
girls. They won't bite."

The end of the sentence pointed to an old man.
As in the professional advertisements the real
object was pointed to by Judith.

"I'm comin' miss, an' I'm not a bit afraid —
of girls," spoke the man who trailed after Judith.

The committees ceased "functioning." They
sat up straight and stared. Ted Guthrie opened
her mouth and Winifred Ayres blinked simul-
taneously. They always did in excitement.

"Girls!" hailed Judith triumphantly, "I've
brought you a friend to adopt."

A "variegated" silence followed. The red
was Nettie's for she objected to the interruption,
and the yellow was Blanche Early's, she disliked
Judith to the point of "couldn't bear her."

"Yes, friends," Judith's voice soared to the

SENIOR 125

heights of enthusiasm, "this is Grandpa Todd,
and he needs work, and he is going to get it here."
Her foot gave the period.

"All I want is a chance to earn m' living,"
Grandpa managed to say. He pulled his necktie
all but off in the effort.

"But the men apply for work " Blanche

Early tried to say, but Judith was ready with
an objection.

"We all know that the ordinary sort of work
is obtained through the office, but this is different.
I want you to adopt Grandpa," said Judith.

Jane understood. She jumped up and said so.
'We could help Judith's friend by supporting his
claim to work here," she pointed out. "The col-
lege can usually make room for one more helper,
but we have nothing to say about who such a
helper shall be. Now, if we all unite and ask
that "

"Silas Todd," assisted the stranger. "Silas

Todd age seventy-five," he announced pom-
pously.

'That Mr. Todd be given work here," con-
tinued Jane with a smile that repaid Grandpa
Todd for his help, "I am sure he will prove satis-
factory." Jane felt like a platform orator, for
her words were very trite, but she had none

126 JANE ALLEN:

better at her command in the new field of per-
sonnel provider for Wellington.

"Yes, that's it," agreed Judith radiantly. "All
we have to do is to ask that Grandpa be given
work. He is sure to prove satisfactory, for he
held one place

"The one job for thirty years, and only quit
then because the road was pulled up. My gate
house was pulled down and sent to the scrap
heap, but for the few bits I managed to save," he
half sighed, "Just the old lanterns and the chair —
it tilted up as I liked it to. And then there was
a couple of pictures. You know," he paused a
trifle embarrassed that no one had charitably in-
terrupted, for he had no idea of talking at such
a length.

Judith understood him and came to the rescue.

"He was gate keeper or tender at the private
factory crossing and they tore up the crossing,"
she said emphatically.

. "They did that. Now, if I had-of worked
for the reg'lar road they'd of pensioned me.
But the factory was one of them that had to quit
lately. They're sidin' wasn't doin' anythin', and
of course they had to sell out to the reg'lar road.
When they build up they're goin' to make a curve
out to the junction," (Grandpa Todd believed in

SENIOR 127

details as most old persons do), "then, maybe,
they'll take me on again," he said hopefully.

"He is not the sort of person who whines,"
Judith declared. "I only found out how needy
he was by accident '

"Oh, I got a bite to eat and I didn't mind
sleepin' in the shanty I made from the railroad
stuff," interrupted the man. "But with the
winter coming, and not much chance to work, it
was a fine thing this young lady was kind enough
to — take an interest in me." He bowed and let
his head drop effectively.

"He has a special claim on us," said Judith
proudly. "His father helped build Wellington."

"He did that." Todd forgot himself in his
excrement, clapped his soft grand army hat
on his head and yanked it off again. "Many's
the time," he took a fresh start, "I heard him
tell about the pranks they played as the buildin'

went up. If you find ghosts in the walls "

he chuckled, "don't blame the ghosts. They were
planted there by Bill Todd and the other fellows
that made fun of the women's colleges in them
days."

"Did your father make fun of us?" demanded
Nettie. She smiled encouragingly for the con-
fession.

128 JANE ALLEN:

"I'm afraid he did, miss. But then I wasn't
there to fight for you." This last rang out in a
voice that brought forth cheers.

"Hun-ay! Hurrah! Hurroo!" came from
Ted Outline's cheering squad. This was the
first chance her corner had to come in on the
sport, and they made the most of it.

"Yes, sir; I've always stuck up for you," said
the applicant for collegiate honors. "Don't you
mind when old Mat Fagan made a fuss about
his cows goin' loose? The night you was playin'
pranks with the fresh girls?"

"Oh, indeed we do," spoke up Dozia Dalton.
She had been suffering with a "throat" and for a
week previous had taken scarcely any part in the
regular activities. Her usually vibrant voice
cracked under the strain of this present attempt.

"Well, Mat is cranky," said Mr. Todd, "and
I had some trouble in making him understand
that it was all just college sport "

"Good for you!" came again from the cheering
squad. A couple of "hips" were nipped in the
bud by Judith.

"Then it's agreed we'll adopt him?" she asked
'decisively.

"Adopt him?" scoffed Blanche Early.
cYes, we need a man around the house," said

SENIOR 129

Jane facetiously. "And if we have a personal
interest in Mr. Todd we will be able to do what
is termed 'constructive work* "

"I could that," said the man, his good natured*
fat old face wrinkling up into twinkles, and
sparkles that echoed from earlier beauty.
Grandpa Todd was one of those human beings
who mellow with age, and he must have been a
good looking young man once. "I could do
many's the thing in construction around here,"
he continued, while Jane and Judith waved away
their original meaning of the term. "I could
build your sidewalks and trim the hedges "

"In fact he is a very handy man to have
around," interrupted Judith. "Now, our next
move is to get the Big Boss to think so. We call
him the Big Boss, Grandpa, because he never
seems to do anything else but boss. He won't
let us so much as cut a whistle or a whip from
a tree that needs trimming," she declared.

"Now, at whistles," began the embarrassed old
man, "I can beat anyone makin' them." He
extracted a sample from a providential pocket.
"Here's one I made the other day. I sell them
for a nickle," he smiled broadly. "But the
youngsters quickly learn how to make them from
my "

130 JANE ALLEN:

"I'll buy your sample," offered Jane, "and
perhaps we may be able to give it a Wellington
patent."

Judith was rubbing one Heel against tihe other.
That indicated impatience. Nettie Brocton was
actually grumbling. The others were delighted
with "the show."

The man was growing more confident, and if
things were not soon adjusted to the regular
afternoon's proceedings, he threatened to keep
his vaudevillian number going indefinitely. He
did look too funny. That may have been one
reason why Judith became interested in him.
His clothes were a combination of overall and
"Cits" (citizen) defying description and repro-
duction. His face wore crinkles that cracked
into a grin, and his eyes shot funny blinks from
under a perfect hedge of bushy brows.

Every community worthy the name has a
Grandpa Todd. He usually carries the flag in
the G. A. R. parade, and he publicly defends
the town's traditions. He is also the best story
teller in the parts, for his personality is keenly
fond of fiction, if not outright fictitious.

So Judith knew how to dioose a protege.
Grandpa Todd promised to fulfill all require-
ments.

SENIOR 1 3 1

"It's agreed then," she said again. "And I'll

take him up to the office.'

"Up to the office?" repeated Jane incredu-
ously.

"Certainly," replied Judith. "I don't smuggle
my friends in as you do, Jane." This went over
the head of most of the assemblage, but Dozia
knew' Judith referred to the bringing to Welling-
ton of the babies, Joy-we and Jill.

"But you had best see the 'Big Boss' as you
call him, Judy," said Jane, "and he is usually
in the garage."

"Nothing of the sort," loftily. "I intend Mr.
Todd shall be formally adopted, and I shall see
that no detail is omitted." All this might have
been a classic recitation so far as Mr. Todd was
concerned. Judith's voice was rolled up in the
mouthings of mystery.

"He has our vote," called out Ted Guthrie.
She and her colleagues could see impending fun
in the prospect.

"Thank you kindly, miss," replied the one,
lone man.

"I need votes now, although I only want a
chance to work. I kin work with men years
younger on the calendar, but sometimes they're
years older on the jobbin' docket," he chuckled.

132 JANE ALLEN:

"A fellow is as old as he feels," he added tritely,
and had a good laugh at his own joke.

Just what happened when Judith took her pro-
tege up to the office is not clear, but she came out
with colors flying. Grandpa Todd was elected a
member of the staff of old Wellington, with
board and lodgings.

"What particular claim had he on your affec-
tions, Judy?" Jane asked when they met in their
room after dinner.

"Oh, Jane; he's a dear," said the enthused
Judith. "He is a baseball fan and as a story
teller he cannot be beat. You should hear him
recount the ball games of the past fifty years."

"But would that really influence you in his be-
half?" Jane was incredulous.

"It might. We need someone to help us out.
Haven't you, and I, and Doze, and a few others
gone dry telling witty jokes to the undeserving
and unappreciative studes? I thought you would
welcome a little help on that score."

"Oh, I do," Jane was silent for a few moments.
It was too easy to guess that such a foolish reason
could not actually have influenced Judith.

'Was that really all, Jude?" she coaxed, pres-
ently.

"No, it was not, Jane. He is Carol Dare's

SENIOR 133

uncle, and I thought it might be handy to have
him around," drawled Judith, her bright eyes
failing to hide their intensity of interest.

"Carol Dare's uncle! How ever did you find
that out?"

"In my interview. You mustn't think you are
the only student with a bona fide case on hand,"
replied Judith. She curled up in the chair and
tapped an idle pencil on the table. It sounded
businesslike but was really a habit.

Jane laughed and tossed over a salted almond,
losing the salt as it flew. 'You're a fraud, as
usual, Jude," she said. "Of course you would
surpass me even at my own chosen profession,
but you have got to admit that it was I who spied
Social Service first."

"Oh, I am willing to concede that, girlie, but
I spied Grandpa Todd first. You cannot deny
that. And just watch him grow — in popularity."
Judith was fairly hugging the prospect.

'Too bad we can't use him as a baseball coach,"
joked Jane.

"A detective would be more in our line^
wouldn't it?"

"Yes, perhaps. But what can he detect?'3

"The reason for Carol Dare's interest in the
Jennings family, for one thing. You seean

-***

I34 JANE ALLEN:

Judith was serious now, "when I was directed to
find who was living in a forlorn shack (we thought
boys were hiding there), I came upon Mr. Todd.
In asking his pedigree I found the name Dare.
It touched a spot of memory, of course," Judith
explained, "and I went further. Mr. Todd had
come into the office as requested, and I was inter-
viewing him there. Well Jane, when he started
in to talk about his niece who, as he expressed it,
was galavanting around doin' stage stunts and
takin' foolish names, her own name bein' none
other than plain Julia Smith, well," Judith sighed,
"as I said in the beginning, or intended to say,
Silas Todd was rip, roaring mad, and I was
deeply interested. I then and there decided to
take up the case, and although Miss Morgan
would have handed it over to a more experienced
worker, I induced her to let me try it."

The long speech exhausted Judith. She sighed
and puffed in the exhaust. Jane wound a willing
arm around her.

"Judy darlink, you're a perfect love," she de-
clared. "Now, we will get at the bottom of the
sudden slump in the Jennings' finances, for we
will go at it in team work. To us this will be the
Judy-Jane case, and old Grandpa Todd will be
the referee "

SENIOR 135

"He is mad enough at Julia Smith to be exe-
cutioner," declared Judith. "But lots of folks
work best under that sort of pressure; I believe
I need it myself," she conceded, and the two
chums proceeded to draw mental pictures of the
two newest characters in their plot.

CHAPTER XII

DANNY MC GORRY'S HOME RUN

AMONG the duties assigned to Grandpa
on the grounds of Wellington was that
of earing for the new gym. It was in-
evitable that when he took his brushes there, at
any time other than during lecture hours, girls
should surround him; also it was inevitable that
they should directly discover, without difficulty,
his propensity for story telling, just as Judith
had predicted.

A class that should have been shooting basket
balls, hung over the benches on the afternoon in
question.

"I told you so," said Judith. "He tells yarns
like a sailor, only his sea is the ball field. I like
to listen myself."

"Let's crowd in," said Dozia. "The girls are
all chanting that 'Danny McGory's Home Run'
as if it were some old time melody. I'd love to
hear what it's all about."

136

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 137

"Come along," agreed Judith, including Jane
in the invitation.

In a corner of the gym Grandpa leaned upon
his broom. The girls leaned upon the horses and
the benches and even upon each other. He was
telling the famous yarn.

"Don't let us interrupt you," begged Judith,
seeing there was danger of that. 'We will just
slip in here "

'Will you?" questioned Barbara Joyce, who
refused to move an inch. Had she done so the
bench would have sprung up like a teeter-tauter.
But Jane and Judith followed the point of
Dozia's finger and found a place in the far corner.
Then all were happy again and Grandpa actually
took a few strokes with the indolent broom.

"But you were just saying what the man said,"
prompted Lottie Landers.

The broom was halted, Grandpa pushed his
cap back and blinked twice.

"I was," admitted Grandpa. "Well," he con-
tinued, "there was a fellow on first, one on third,
and one in the field when Danny went to the bat."
This he retold for the benefit of late comers.
'Then this man who talked big enough to be
Babe Ruth himself, he began blowin' about some
one who struck a ball over a tall fence.'

138 JANE ALLEN:

At this point two girls in Nettie's corner had
a discussion that broke into the story. Their
remarks punctured the tale, and presently
Grandpa was twisting his tongue without words.

"Isn't a man on first nearest home?" asked one
of the contestants.

"He is, from the -wrong end," replied Grandpa.
"But the fellow on third has him beaten by two,"
he explained. He did not laugh outright at the
query, but his smile was, to say the least, compre-
hensive.

"Now you girls listen and stop disturbing the
lecturer," called out Dozia from her perch. Her
long, woolen stockings hung over the side of the
step ladder and the rest of her went the entire
height of it.

'Well, as I was sayin'," took up the narrator,
"this dude was bio win' his head off about what a
friend of his could do with a bat, and I was try-
in' to find out what Danny McGorry was goin'
to do with his. The game was tied. We were
that excited the soda water was standin' out in
the sun ready to pop off unclaimed."

"Out in the sun?" Girls will perpetually in-
terrupt.

'Yes. You see we used to go in wagons to
ball games in them days," went on the center of

SENIOR 139

attention, "and in the wagons we would carry a
box of soda water and ginger ale. I know you're
thinkin* we may have had somethin' stronger,"
he digressed, "but we didn't. The Woodsockers
was every one of them sober boys."

"And handsome," whispered Judith. She
poked Jane until the latter shifted out of reach
of her active elbow.

"But I had best be at m' job," said Grandpa.
The Big Boss will be after me." Again the
broom was brought into action.

"But what happened after that?" demanded
little Dorothy Scott. "The man went to the bat,
you know," she pointed out.

"He did that," agreed the baseball fan. "He
went to the bat," the broom was grasped and
swung out with a steady hand and something of a
curve, "we all stood waitin' ; you have got to re-
member there was a man on first, two out, one on
third "

"And a rattling good fielder waitin' to grab
'em," chirped Judith.

"Exactly. Waitin' to grab em," agreed the
story teller, "when Danny McGorry swung that
bat. Whist! Wizz! Bang!"

"Bingo!" shouted the cheering squad.

"And that ball flew!" The broom was held

I4Q JANE ALLEN:

afolt, suspended in midair, and the girls' eyes
were following the ball. "It flew up and out
of sight!"

"Oh!!!" breathed a chorus.

"Yes sir, it went right over the barn!" came
the thrilling news, "right up over a barn, big
enough to stop a cyclone. Think of it! A ball
batted over that barn "

The girls broke into a cheer and Grandpa
became so excited he batted the broom perilously
near a window. It was his pet story and it made
a "whopper" of a tale for the girls, because they
wanted to cheer him up. He should not get
lonely at Wellington if they knew it.

So intense was the assumed excitement that
the men on base might have been all home and
out on the benches before Jane interrupted.

"And they made home runs of course?" she
asked.

"Did they? Well, now I'll say they did," said
Grandpa, quite up to date with his phrases.
'When Danny's bat touched that ball it went
flyin'." What is truer than a baseball fan?

"Right over the barn," sang out Ted Guthrie,
thereby starting another racket from the
choristers.

"But I want to hear what happened to tHe

SENIOR 141

men on bases," insisted Jane. "Did they all get
in safely, or was there a boy back of the barn?"

"They never found that ball," said Grandpa
grandly. "And Danny McGorry was the best
boy in that town for a long time after that,"
said the old man. "It made me feel good, be-
cause I taught that lad how to swing a bat "

"Really? Did he get into the big league,
Grandpa?" asked Lottie.

"He should have had. But he had a mother.
The nicest little woman in the town and she was
afraid he would get hurted "

"Just like a woman," blamed Dozia. "See,
what scientific baseball lost on account of a

woman's nerves.'

"But you know the fellow who was brag-

gin' "

"Oh, yes, wrhat happened to him?" asked
Judith, kicking two girls one with each foot.

"He took one look at the ball when it was on
the wing — he stood right beside me you know —
and when he saw it goin' up, and up, he grabs
me own hat in the excitement and off he runs.
I never seed him since "

"Nor your hat?'" asked cruel Judith.

"Oh, I didn't mind the hat. It was a straw
one I had painted over, and if a shower came —

142 JANE ALLEN:

which it did every ball game day — well, he was
welcome to his prize," concluded the owner of the
painted straw hat.

'The mark of Cain," said Dozia irreverently.
"That was a great story, Grandpa," compli-
mented Nettie, in a wave of appreciation.

'Wasn't it? And the way that ball flew over
the barn —

' vv asn i n

»

"Right up clean out of sight "

it

the fellow who grabbed the wrong
hat "

"And Danny's mother who wouldn't let him
join the big league," wailed Judith, following the
gasps of her companions.

'There's the boss," whispered Jane.

"Quick, Grandpa; hide!" commanded Dozia,
pushing the excited new helper behind a pile of
gym apparatus.

'Where's Todd?" inquired the man called
Boss. He had stalked in almost before Todd
could follow Dozia's advice.

"Not here?'3 the man answered himself, while
a few heads shook in agreement. "I wanted him
to go to the village. If any of you young women
see him would you mind telling him I want to
speak to him."

'We wouldn't mind telling him you would like

SENIOR 143

to speak to him," Judith corrected pointedly, but
the verbiage went right over the Boss's head.

"He has not forgiven you for bringing the
new man in, Judith," remarked Nettie, when the
Boss closed the door upon himself. "I suppose
he is also boss of a labor squad, with his rather
insolent orders."

"Most likely," replied Jane. "But he's gone.
Tell Grandpa."

"And you are to report at his office please,"
said Nettie, who did the telling. "And if you are
going to the village, Grandpa, will you fetch me
back a bag of red apples?"

Other orders were added, until the man who
threatened to be called Toddy, for short, and be-
cause the girls insisted he was not old enough to
be known as Grandpa, especially when his base
ball proclivities were considered, finally went off
toward the big garage to report to the unpopular
boss.

'That was a great story," Ted said in parting.
'We will have to have another tomorrow after-
noon."

"All right," responded the proud old Silas,
happily, entirely ignoring the task set for him
with the broom.

Let's do it for him," suggested Judith.

"

JANE ALLEN:

"With pleasure," replied Winifred Ayres,
who grabbed the broom first and after waltzing
around with it for a few turns, surrendered it to
the next girl who did the same thing. Presently
the phonograph was started, and by the time the
latest dance record was finished, the room was as
clean as if it had been swept to the regular strum
of hardship.

"Of course this wasn't sweeping day," said
Jane, servilly, "but it gave us a pretty good dose
of exercise, so what's the difference?"

"Noney," answered Dozia, "except that I have
just had a shampoo, the first since my throat went
'goofy,' and this dust - "

"Let's fumigate," proposed some one, and that
was answered by the hose being dragged out from
its place and squirted, first in a tiny stream like
a spray, then the operator got careless and the
water actually ran along the floor of that lovely
new gymnasium, the pride of all the big build-
ings.

For a few moments the reverend seniors, and
gay young others, forgot all about being grown
up, and they had the sort of time usually enjoyed
at a beach party; but it did not take them long
to recover.

"My word!" gasped Judith. "Grandpa may

SENIOR 145

be blamed for this ! We have got to dry up this
floor. But how?"

"Sweep it," suggested Ted, who made a muddy
lane with the broom to demonstrate.

"That won't do," Judith objected. "We have
got to mop it. But where's tihe mops?" She
feared the muddy floor might do more harm than
bring reprimand upon the innocent head of
Grandpa Todd.

There was a wild scrimmage for anything that
might answer the mopping purpose, and pres-
ently a few old sweaters, and even a pair or two
of last year's bloomers were dragged out from
the lockers.

"Now exercise your skill," demanded Judith.
"You will be gay and reckless, and make the Red
Sea return."

"This sweater — sweats," moaned Ted. "Look:
at the green frog pond I'm making."

"Here, let me rinse it," suggested Jane, and
she turned a stream on the spot that looked like
an artificial lake in later summer after a dry
spell — scummy.

The fascination of a running stream was too
much to withstand. More than one spot, in fact
more than many spots, appeared to need hosing,
and Jane was only too anxious to oblige. So she

146 JANE ALLEN:

turned the nice little nozzle, with her finger over
the spots to make it fine, in many directions. And
howr it did squirt!

"Look out for the mattresses!" yelled Doze.
"There's a stream running right down to this
one."

"Shut it off! Shut it off!" yelled an excited
chorus, for a wild hose in a gym is not less danger-
ous than a bull in a china shop.

But no one could reach the faucet.

"Step on it! Jump on it!" called out Wini-
fred.

Ted Guthrie tried to do both, but she slipped
right in the biggest puddle and sat on it!

The things that happened then were foolish
enough for a high school team to have perpre-
trated, but the reverend seniors and others were,
after all, merely children posing as grown ups,
and sometimes the pose grew irksome, and they
just naturally discarded it.

What time later does not matter, but before
the shades of eventide settled over the gym, it
had been scoured and housecleaned as never be-
fore. The more the workers tried to curtail the
scrubbing the more pools appeared, until Jane
Allen declared there were secret springs under
that floor,,

SENIOR 147

"We'll have to wax it," declared Nettie, who
lived at home in summer and knew something
about floors.

"With what?" demanded Dozia.

"Butcher's wax," informed Nettie.

"Butchers?" queried Winifred.

;<They use sawdust and I think it would take
that to cover up this," moaned Judith. 'We
ought to fill the puddles in with something."

"This is our busy day," commented Ted, try-
ing to hide the damage done her velveteen skirt
by shaking, brushing and slapping it.

"And all on account of I>anny McGorry's
home run," recalled Jane. "The question is:
where's the shine gone?"

"You did it," declared Winifred. "It was you
who grabbed the hose."

"I stand and plead guilty," admitted Jane.
"But what difference does that make? The mess
is a mess, in spite of the perpetrator. I never
would have believed a squirt of clean water could
have gone into those shades. I distinctly see the
outlines of Ted's brown hose. I never knew all
wool would run like that."

"Lucky we saved the mattresses," reflected
Judith. "I've seen less destruction after a fire.
Jane, next time try something simpler."

148 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

"Here comes one of the faculty!" gasped Cora
Mead. "Now what shall we do?"

"Divert her, of course," said Judith quickly.
"Didn't you ever see a 'cop' divert traffic?"

"Jude to the bat," called out Jane; and that
was the signal for Judith to go out and "divert"
the dignified faculty member, who was headed
straight on for that scene of disaster.

Instinctively a group backed to the door and
held it fast. Like school children they had gone
into the fun, and now they were playing up to
the same juvenile type.

Meanwhile the floor was actually drying. The
open windows helped, and the futuristic shades
were fading from the maps of the world outlined
under the verv feet of the combatants.

V

"She's got her," whispered Cora, as Judith
marched up the walk arm in arm with the de-
ceived and innocent faculty member.

"Jude will pass the potatoes around tonight,"
said Jane, "see if she isn't seated directly opposite
that faculty at dinner."

"Hers be the honor," ejaculated Doze. "And
she's welcome. I would rather sit at the end near
the — pie."

And presently the tinted floor was left to its
own reflections.

CHAPTER XIII

A MOTHER'S CONFIDENCE

WE have got to make this the biggest
prom we have ever had," said Net-
tie Brocton at the last meeting of the
committee.

<Who is going to be responsible for the in-
vitation list?" inquired Inez Wilson, loftily.

"Every member," replied Nettie. "We can't
pick each other's friends and we want every girl
to have her friends here. Otherwise the commit-
tees would not have been made up from all the
classes."

"But suppose we get "

"We won't," interrupted Judith. "We will
get every girl's friend or friends, and whoever
is eligible to Wellington, is entitled to her own
following while here." Judicious Judith!

"Applause and cheers!" sang out Dozia. "Of
all women's colleges this should be the most demo-
cratic. We started with a Betsy."

149

ico JANE ALLEN:

e

Unspoken approval was rife at this. Som
Wellingtons were rich and influential, others were
in ordinary circumstances but had an advantage
in talents, and still others were simply there to
be educated. But as Dozia said, Wellington
should be democratic, and it was trying to be in
the arrangements for this prom.

"Who will take care of the special feature?"
Jane asked next.

"A committee with Miss Nora Travers as
chairman," spoke up the secretary, Winifred
Ayres. 'The feature will be a Grecian Dance
to be performed by two professionals." She
paused to allow the smile its way. Then con-
tinued, "Except for this number side shows will
be barred."

Satisfaction prevailed. The cards were handed
out in packs, and the meeting broke up in a regu-
lar business session, such as is sometimes held
after the formal business meeting adjourns.

For days and nights thereafter nothing but
prom was talked of. Everyone entered into the
spirit of the affair with the vim and sparkle
peculiar to youth; and Nettie's fears, that too
much had been left to her inexperienced hands,
were speedily repudiated.

"And I can guess who is going to be your —

SENIOR 151

boy," said Judith to Jane, slamming down an
innocent note book.

"I don't mind," replied Jane. "You know,
Jude, we have had to leave little Shirley and
Bobbie a lot to themselves lately. Not that I
don't think it is best for the younger girls to
work out their own salvation, but our attention
to them last year was so spectacular, it is rather
a delicate matter to slow down with such a jam
of brakes. Yes, I am asking Shirley's nice
brother, Ted Duncan," admitted Jane rogu-
ishly.

"I knew you would. Well, I suppose Doze
will have her famous Phil down, and all the other
girls will exhibit their Hope Chesters. As for
me — I haven't decided. ,You see, I can afford to
be choosey," said Judith, coquettishly.

"That's because a number of vour friends are

V

now seeing the big city, of course," replied Jane.
"Don't forget me when the dances thin out,"
she reminded her chum.

"As if yours ever did," scoffed Judith.

And so the plans rolled along like a snow ball
gathering impetus and bulk as it went.

A call from Miss Morgan's office summons
Jane that afternoon.

"We have to ask you to go out to Mrs. Cast-

I52 JANE ALLEN:

bolt's this afternoon," said the director of the
bureau. "Mrs. Jennings has returned, and they
are more upset than ever. I suppose you have
seen for yourself that the case is particularly
delicate and the sort we always try to bring
quickly to a satisfactory finish," she explained.
"It is not money those folks need, but advice.
They should be made to see that being without
funds is a temporary condition, and that friends
and relatives should be brought to aid them — it is
scarcely the work for a philanthropic organiza-
tion," said Miss Morgan, kindly.

"I have felt that from the first," replied Jane,
"but the more I went into it the more pathetic
it seemed. To be in danger of losing their home
just for the sake of some overdue notes "

"But there are hundreds just like that," said
Miss Morgan. 'We can never undertake to
advance money — outright."

'But what can we do?" asked Jane, somewhat
bluntly.

'What do they propose? You know the client's
own plans

"Oh, yes. They plan to get the money, but
they don't know how," Jane answered rather rue-
fully.

'Well, run over and have a talk with them.

SENIOR 153

Then write up your notes and we will see if we
can suggest a plan finally," continued the super-
visor.

Jane was feeling discouraged. She hardly
knew how to approach her friends again without
being prepared to answer their financial ques-
tions. But Mrs. Jennings should be interviewed.
Jane wondered if the interview were ever to be
the keystone of her new course.

She found the young widow most pleasant and
attractive. In her sombre black her bright, vivid
youth seemed to sparkle, like something shining
against a jetty background.

"I am really much embarrassed," said Mrs.
Jennings. "I had no idea mother was going to —
apply "

'You seem to consider us so — official," Jane
interrupted. She sought to discount the profes-
sional lines and place the matter into those of
friendship.

"I am sure you are very kind," continued Mrs.
Jennings, "but we have never before had any
such experience. I have heard how generous you
were to little Jill and Joy during my absence."
This somewhat lessened her reserve.

"It was just fun," said Jane, determined to

break through further. "I had a wonderful time

154 JANE ALLEN:

with them, and my friends were actually jealous
of the chance I had at playing mother."

Mrs. Jennings smiled. When she did, Jane
discovered a charm in her expression easy to as-
sociate with stage talent. She had flashing brown
eyes and dark hair, was tall and so slender. Jane
regarded her as the embodiment of perfection in
appearance. So many of the college girls were
trying to get just that slim, with walking, exer-
cising and dieting.

'You are very young to be in such work," said
the widow gently. She was too well bred to show
any resentment did she actually feel it.

'When one becomes a reverend senior," re-
plied Jane, "age is negative. It must fit any
demand put upon it. But really, I do so enjoy
this course — perhaps I would not, had I to take
on all sorts of experiences." This was a tactful
compliment, Jane considered.

"It's nice of you to say so," replied the other.
"But I fancy you will want to show results."
She shrugged her shoulders. "I cannot imagine
anyone being able to make headway in this
tangle." Her eyes dropped disconsolately.

The conversation was being held in the small
reception room and no one, but Mrs. Jennings
and Jane, was present. In explanation of this,

SENIOR 155

Mrs. Jennings said her mother and aunt had gone
out for a drive with a friend, taking the children
along. This made the entire interview difficult
for Jane. All the previous understandings were
naturally lost sight of. The children, however,
seemed to offer a safe opening for conversation.

"And the babies did not suffer from their wild
night at Wellington?'" asked Jane, cautiously.

'They have never stopped talking about it,"
replied tjie mother. "I cannot imagine you girls
caring for them in your room."

"You should have seen us," exclaimed Jane
with unusual warmth. "My chum, Judith
Stearns, is too funny — she can make a good time
out of almost any emergency." This was not at
all the line of conversation she had rehearsed,
but how could she ask this little woman about
her private affairs? Social Service just then
seemed a misnomer. The young woman was
young indeed, and Jane, regarding her, could
easily imagine what a bride she must have been
a few years before. And now to have to start all

over again!

"I believe our families are old friends," said
Jane, after an awkward pause. "My father and
your uncle were in the same mining company."

"So I believe," replied Mrs. Jennings. "But

I56 JANE ALLEN:

uncle is rather estranged from us now. He
simply ahbors the stage."
"Do you like it?"

•7

"Oh, I love it," glowed the young widow. "But
it is not easy to get a chance at it. I have had
some experience, and rather good preparation,

but when it comes to being cast " She

stopped and dropped her eyes. 'Well, it always
seems as if the old hands are in demand, and the
new must wait."

"I understand," said Jane, feeling very foolish.
The one fortunate circumstance to this inane in-
terview was that it was solitary. Had Judith
Stearns, or Dozia Dal ton a chance to "listen in"
they would have howled at the dismal failure
Jane \vas making of it all.

She stood up to leave. "I had hoped to have
a word with your mother," she said timidly, feel-
ing the dark eyes boring through her, "but I
don't think I should wait longer." Jane noticed
the face before her change its expression.

"Miss Allen, I know you are trying to be
kind," said Mrs. Jennings impulsively, "but no
one can help us. We have got to get some money
privately, and I have been the unfortunate means
of using up what we had." She arose to draw
down a shade that was admitting a shaft of sun-

SENIOR 157

light. "I had no idea, really, that I could not
quickly replace the money, and in fact I expected
to add considerable to it; but you see this acting
is a rather precarious profession, and mother did
not warn me how important it was to have money
before the legal claims became due."

'Were you disappointed in your trip?" Jane
was encouraged to ask.

The young woman bit her lips and shifted un-
easily. Jane * was almost sorry she had asked so
direct a question. Then she smiled and the re*
serve was broken.

"I trusted a friend," she said, "but who can
one trust in business?"

"Oh well," soothed Jane, "you have undoubt-
edly added to your experience. But as a Social
Service worker," she laughed a little, "I am not
supposed to condone conditions that interrupt
the normal life of little children. A mother seems
to be the most wanted creature in all creation,
and no matter how kind and efficient a friend or
substitute may be, we are directed to keep the
children with the mother, always or almost
always."

"Indeed my mother is much better than I am
with the babies," insisted Mrs. Jennings. "Of
course they are mine, and I love them dearly, but

i58 JANE ALLEN:

I have not the slighest fear of leaving them with
mother. That particular day it was unfortunate
she should have been taken ill, but even then
see how well she managed to get you to help

her."

"I can easily understand your reliance," said
Jane, "and I only made that statement out of
loyalty. As a matter of fact, I am sure Mrs.
Castbolt is a wonderful mother, and I can easily
see why you should trust her implicity."

"That is exactly the trouble. She has always
been so wonderful we have all leaned on her too
heavily. Her health is failing and we cannot
realize it," said the daughter, with a show of
anxiety. "But I am going to see my brother
and get him to give up college. We simply can-
not lose this home. Of course, he does not know
our funds have shrunken. You see, I took what
was out aside for the note and paid it for the stage
experience. Now I have — neither." Her fine
features hardened pitifully with this thought.

"But you are not serious in saying you are
going to ask your brother to give up college?'3
Jane asked anxiously.

"There is nothing else to do. We certainly
cannot ask for charity."

What a bitter word that was! No wonder,

SENIOR 159

Jane thought, it has been transposed lately to
other softer expressions under Social Service.

"But don't you think your uncle would help?
I have been wanting to see him. He is such a
friend of dad's "

"But he is so stubborn," interrupted Mrs. Jen-
nings. "My brother was always a favorite of his
until he played with his college club. You see
Uncle Reynolds has a prejudice. His wife, at
one time, favored the stage."

"And the experience has embittered him," re-
flected Jane aloud. "Don't you think, Mrs.
Jennings, he might listen to me on account of
dad?"

"You are very far from the stage type — I
mean you are so frankly a girl," Mrs. Jennings
hurried to explain. "I am almost sure Uncle
Reynolds would be civil to you. But you see,
there is so little ground to work upon. We should
not have been in such straits."

'The old reliable adage that blood is thicker
than water ought to have weight with your
uncle," said Jane, tritely. "But if I could see
him "

"No doubt you would be able to invent your
story," supplied the other. "Well, I would do
almost anything other than ask Renny to leave

160 JANE ALLEN:

his class. He is such a fine boy," and the sister's
eyes sparkled with sentiment now.

"Your uncle's office is in New Bayard I have
heard. That is only a few miles out and I can
drive there with a girl friend. Would you be
positively opposed to my trying to influence
him?" asked Jane, eagerly. She quickly followed
with: "I am sure he owes it to your mother "

"Oh, it is only mother I am thinking of," said
the daughter sadly. "She has had so much
trouble, and if this comes '

"It won't," said Jane decisively. She was by
no means as confident as she professed to be, but
she knew tfliat inspiration would be best imparted
with confidence. She continued: "Now, Mrs.
Jennings, suppose you and I just act like two
college chums. You are so short a time away
you can easily imagine yourself back "

"But such a lot has happened " Her eyes

blinked.

"Making you more of a woman but no less of
a girl," said Jane with haphazard eloquence.

"Now, just let me go see this ogre " she made

a twisted face in excuse for the assumption.
"And I will tell him about those babies. Does he
know what dears they are?"

"No."

SENIOR 161

"Then I will use that as an opening wedge.
[You have no idea, Mrs. Jennings, how green I
am. But you see, dad mentioned your family,
and I want to please him by accomplishing some-
thing." Her humility was not assumed.

"I wish you luck," said the other dryly. "Uncle
Reynolds is not exactly a — gallant."

"I like them that way," declared Jane, feeling
elated now that she had been able to obtain some
footing. "I am afraid of no man who claims to
be a woman hater."

"They usually are — putty," admitted Mrs.
Jennings with a smile. "I should like you to
meet my brother," she broke off without warning.
"He is a perfectly splendid fellow."

"I am sure he is. But don't tell him I am med-
dling, please. I can just imagine how he would
hate me if he knew the profession I have chosen,"
Jane argued.

"He is a sensible chap," defended the sister,
"and if I had only taken something sensible in
my last year at college, I suppose I would not
find myself so helpless now."

"Would you like Social Service?" asked Jane
suddenly.

"To practice on ourselves?" the young woman
asked with a shrug of her shoulders, A bitter *

1 62 JANE ALLEN:

ness could not be disguised in her attempt to
hide it.

"Oh, this is not really a 'case'," declared Jane.
"I am just trying to keep myself out of mischief.
You should see what my chum is doing! She
has actually made us adopt a grandfather,"
laughed Jane.

"Adopt a grandfather?"

"Yes. I don't think it will be betraying con-
fidence to mention his name. In fact Judy
brought him right in, and we formally adopted
him. Do you know a man they call Grandpa
Todd?"

"Of course I do. You don't mean to say you
have taken him into Wellington?"

"Indeed we have, bag and baggage," declared
Jane. "And I must say I admire Judith's cour-
age. He is quite an acquisition."

"He is — Carol Dare's uncle," said the other
slowly and evenly.

"I believe so," said Jane simply.

"Do you know her?"

"Only by reputation. She is something of an
agent for theatrical folks, isn't she?"

"She professes to be." Again that bitter tone
sounded as if it had been spoken from behind the
footlights. "But I have good reason to doubt

SENIOR 163

her claims," said the young widow. "It was to
her I entrusted our precious- -wealth."

"Really?" Jane did not feel like betraying the
confidence given her by Mrs. Castbolt. "If she
is in a good position I shall have to tell Judy to
get after her. That will be another uncle to work
on, only the process will be reversed," said Jane,
happily.

"If anyone can get Carol Dare to do anything
for a person other than herself she will indeed
be — clever," declared Mrs. Jennings sharply.

"We can only try," said Jane. "One of our
tenets is to have relatives do their part to help
those in distress. Why not Carol Dare?"

CHAPTER XIV

A DANCE WITHIN A DANCE

THE "prom" came next. Excitement and
interest were so co-mingled as to be
synonymous, and if there was a girl in
Wellington who was not eager for that great
night, it must have been she who had no new party
dress.

There really were a few such. But even these
Cinderellas had their compensations, for this
being a real benefit for the Fund (what college
has not a fund running?) opportunity was given
for serving on committees that carried about trays
of flowers, or handed around sandwiches, or even
served lemonade from1 a Rebecca's well, and to
take part in such service required a simple cos-
tume provided by the general committee. So it
was that more than one girl had a rollicking good
time even without the proverbial party dress.

Bobbie and Shirley, the two sophs who were
such prominent freshies the year before, were
helpless in their excitement. Teddy, Shirley's

164

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 165

popular and good looking brother, was to be
Jane's escort, and while the sister hoped for some
of his attention she was proud that so popular
a girl as Jane should have chosen her brother
as her partner.

Judith was going with Mason Blair, whose
name suggested the Toot-Toot he was commonly
known fay. Not that a Blair always toots, but
any noise is a band to a college girl. Dozia had
not made known her intentions but everybody
hoped for Phil, even the girl who was "Hoped
Chested" by proxy on his account.

So the "prom" promised to outdo its predeces-
sors, and the fact that gentlemen were now per-
mitted to come to Wellington and take part in
the big social affairs, gave the zest that goes to
make any affair interesting.

Nettie Brocton was more nervous than the
other students because this was her first attempt
at handling a real function, and while all classes
were participating, she felt the responsibility as
chairman, and knew that the student governing
body looked to her to make the "prom" a real
affair.

'You can't tell a thing about it until the Danc-
ing starts, or, in fact, until it is well along," she
confided to Inez Wilson. "I asked to have all the

166 JANE ALLEN:

returns in advance, but that is only air. They
who dance will pay, none others," she declared,
sagely.

But earlier than usual the big auditorium was
filling up, and as "side shows were barred ' ac-
cording to previous orders, it was easy to calculate
that the assemblage was a splendid testimonial to
the comradeship of old Wellington.

"A lot of strangers here," remarked Winifred.
She had been secretary to the committee and
fancied the writing of names might intimate the
personality of the owners.

"A wonderful crowd," replied Inez. "I guess
Nettie won't have anything to worry about when
the count is made up."

Fluttering hearts, and flushed cheeks, and
dancing eyes must be seen to be appreciated, and
there was an attractive display of all these on
the slippery floor of the auditorium when the
orchestra broke into its harmony. As for gowns,
it would have been difficult to decide which was
most effective ; the simple white daisy kind or the
flashing and brilliant golds, reds, greens, and
other stolen floral tones. Perhaps each required
each to bring out in fullness the satisfying effects
of both.

Jane was verdant in two shades of leaf green,

SENIOR 167

Judith glowed in a glorious American beauty
satin, the sheen of which sent out flashes worthy
of the title, Dozia wore black and looked queenly
in it, while Nettie dimpled, appropriately, in a
spangled net.

The two sophs, Bobbie and Sally, fairly ex-
haled the joy of the undergrad; Sally in varie-
gated golds and Bobbie in changeable blues. The
Tellit reporter was bewildered with the task be-
fore her, for a description of the "prom" should,
ethically, contain a description of the gowns.

See the Tellit , page one, double headed display
for a full account, and if your favorite student
is not listed there communicate with the editor.
She should be. The "prom" was entirely compre-
hensive, took in all classes and barred sorority
restrictions along with the side shows.

At intermission the special number was intro-
duced. That this was to be a Grecian Dance done
by two professionals was no secret, still, an air of
expectation pervaded the room when the floor
was finally cleared.

The premonitory mumble of ancient music
stirred; then the dancers swept in like a gale of
rhythmic motion. The Greek maid was being
tossed around by the Greek "god," in that modern
manner peculiar to interpretative dancing, but to

i68 JANE ALLEN:

the audience it represented marvellous skill in
escaping mortal injury. How he caught her
just as she flew, and how he swirled her like a
pin wheel, then tossed her up in the air and caught
her upon the return bounce !

"Nimble and nifty," remarked Judith, who sat
on a window ledge that was low enough to be
used decorously by a reverend senior.

"Real dancers," agreed Jane, watching the
young giant perform the double feat of showing
grace with skill in acrobatic swirls, performed in
such a subtle manner as to leave spectators won-
idering whether the Greek dancers of old were
really made up with the same number of bones
and joints that moderns are encumbered with.

An encore brought the dancers back, and they
varied their number with poses and statuesque
"stills ' that should have made Mercury feel the
necessity of taking lessons in aviation.

It was while making a "still" that Jane had an
opportunity to penetrate the make-up of the
"goddess," and behind it she discovered features
vaguely familiar.

"I have seen her before," she whispered to
Judith. "Where, I wonder?"

"But the man. He with those eyes, those
mouth!" Judith was gasping in ecstasy and

SENIOR 169

breathing hard. The young man was undoubt-
edly handsome, and no makeup could cover the
classic outline of his features; so even Judith's
foolishness might have been pardoned.

"But I know the girl!" exclaimed Jane in
Judith's ear. "She is Carol Dare!"

"Really!"

"I am positive."

"Then we can meet the man "

"Judith!"

"Why not ? Isn't he charming ? That's a weak
word. He is inspiring "

"Now, Judith," Jane was attempting to be
calm but her discovery left her obviously agitated.

"Don't you want to meet him?"

"I am just wondering whether I want to meet
her."

"I would rather not," said Judith. "She might
ask me to return her grandfather — or is he her
uncle?"

The dancers were towing and otherwise
acknowledging the generous applause. Now they
were capering off to the dressing rooms.

"Shall I ask them to stay?" Nettie Brocton
wanted to know. She had corralled a group of
seniors in which Jane and Judith were included.

"Oh, of course!" exhaled Judith.

i_70 JANE ALLEN:

_ ___ ..

"Why not?" demanded Winifred.

"What's his name?" begged Judith.

"I haven't heard. She made the arrange-
ments," replied the flushed chairman. "All right,
I'll send them an invitation to stay and finish the
dance with us. Norma will be delighted. This is
her find, you know."

"Don't forget me," sang out Judith.

"Get me a couple," appealed Winifred.

"Give the Greek lady over to your — boy, Doze.
He looks kind of sad. Knows you preferred
Phil," teased Ted Guthrie.

"Whatever you do don't let the Greek lady
claim Apollo. I shall never forgive you "

But Nettie was gone on ahead of the threat.

A flutter of excitement went through the as-
semblage when a half hour later the dancers ap-
peared with rather uncertain complexions, but
otherwise wearing their normal expressions. The
young woman known to Jane, and perhaps a few
others as Carol Dare, wore a most effective black
costume, so simple as to be extravagant, and so
Grecian ! Around her head was the band she had
worn in the last pose, and when she stepped out
to dance with some one introduced by the com-
mittee, not a few youths neglected their own part-
ners to stare after her.

SENIOR 171

"Some pippin," said the young fellow who
came with Teddy Duncan. Ted was then com-
ing up to claim Jane.

"But oh, the man!" gasped Judith, pretending
exquisite anguish at the very thought.

"Shall I bring him up?" asked the accom-
modating Ted.

"Oh, would you?" sighed Judith, waving off
the protest of Mason Blair, her own escort.

But when Ted went to the other end of the
room the Greek youth was just about to take a
partner out on the floor, and Ted returned empty
handed, so to speak.

'The next," he promised, with one of his most
ingratiating smiles for the pretending Judith.

"Then I shall have to fall back on Toots," she
said, but Toots knew she did not exactly mean
that, not that alone, at any rate.

Jane and Ted swept off into the dancing
throng.

"Do you know him?" she asked. "All the girls
will be sure to make a foolish fuss over him, of
course," she continued, swaying into step, uner-
ringly.

"No, I don't know him, but I have met — the
lady," admitted Ted rather uncertainly.

"She is Miss Dare, is she not?"

172 JANE ALLEN:

"The same. Does up all colleges with her
wonderful shill at raking in the shekles," con-
tinued the youth. "Not but what she is a first-
class performer, but what I have reference to is
her business tact. Once she takes it into her
bobbed head to give a turn she does it, so I've
been told," explained Ted Duncan, brother to
the famous little Shirley.

"She is her own press agent?"

"And business manager rolled into one. She
danced at Locton the other night, but this chap
was not with her, and her partner rather fumbled
the ball. Makes all the difference in the world
who is the other fellow in an act like that," said
Ted, seriously.

"I fancy it would," replied Jane. "Suppose
he should fumble her, when she makes one of
those high dives?"

"Ker-plunk, I'll say," continued Jane's part-
ner.

"I did enjoy the exhibition, however," re-
marked Jane. She was wondering if it would
be to her advantage to meet Carol Dare under
the present circumstances. The next thought
erased this idea, for why should Jane bring Social
Service into the prom?

The dance ended and was encored. As no

SENIOR 173

"cut-ins" were allowed the same partners glided
off again. A few more turns and the encore
was over. Then the usual rush toward the
punch bowl swept Jane and her partner along
with it.

Carol Dare was chatting, smiling and other-
wise acting up to the admiring multitude of
youths — the girls may have admired but not quite
as frankly as did their escorts. It was evident
she was in her glory. Judith whispered this to
Nettie. The other Greek dancer had slipped off
somewhere, and not even the most searching eyes
(Judith's and Dozia's) could locate him.

"You promised," Judith reminded Ted Dun-
can, referring to his promise to bring back the
dancer.

"Oh, I'll bring him back if I have to drag him,"
said the young man who was filling Jane's cup
with "blushing lemonade."

"I'll wait my love," ejaculated the fun loving
Judith. "Others may pine in secret, but why
should I?" she opined.

"Why, I ask you?" repeated Ted, in comedy
tones.

"Thinking?" whispered Judith in Jane's ear.
"Going to confront the — crea-chure!"

"I am thinking, but I think not," replied Jane.

174 JANE ALLEN:

Both understood, but others nearby could not
possibly guess the riddle.

"There he is. I see him!" said Inez in an
undertone to Judith. All the party were now
either sitting or standing about a settee under
palms — the palms that had cost the decorating
committee a full day's begging from one of the
local florists, it having been a matter of "getting
in touch," with the owner, and there having been
any number of persons about the place who posi-
tively disowned the shop when the girls went there
to beg.

"Now, I'll nab him," announced the redoubt-
able Ted. He was himself such an attractive
fellow it behooved him to give someone else a
chance, even though the other party might be a
Grecian "god."

The girls held their breath audibly. Jane was
flushed a pretty pink and Judith was getting a
shade too deep for contrast with her rose colored
gown. Doze — well, she didn't exactly pretend
to be interested (Phil's absence was chilling),
but a pucker at the left end of her shapely mouth
might have been easily interpreted.

Ted Duncan was returning and this time be-
side him was the popular youth. There was no
mistake he was good looking. No wonder Judith

SENIOR 175

had gone into a rhapsody of 'Those eyes, those
mouth" ejaculations.

Now he was being presented. Ted Duncan
purposely introduced Jane first.

"Miss Allen," he began formally, "let me pre-
sent Mr. Reynolds Castbolt," he said, and at the
name Jane could not suppress a gasp.

"Mr. Castbolt!" she repeated, but in the word
there was more than the mere acceptance of an
introduction.

Standing before her, handsome, debonaire and
a veritable idol among the throng that had just
witnessed his artistic dancing, was the young man,
the "handsome young man" of Judith's dreams
and her own especial Social Service case! Mrs.
Jenning's brother, the son of the dear Mrs. Cast-
bolt, and now the dancing partner of Carol Dare!

No wonder Judith, who had quickly recognized
the name, allowed her jaw to drop in sheer
astonishment.

He smiled as the introduction was passed on to
iihe others, but Jane fancied, she may have only
fancied, that he had recognized her own name.

CHAPTER XV

THIN ICE

GLANCING up questioningly at that
handsome face, noting this young man's
splendid, natural grace and easy cul-
tured manner, Jane's heart thumped.

How could she presume to interfere in the
affairs of one so seemingly capable? She, a mere
college girl, with no experience other than good
will and frank interest?

"May we?" he asked simply, in making the
usual dance question.

Jane looked at Ted. "Oh, go ahead," said the
good natured Ted. "I don't mind a — tall," and
he made a mockery of the statement with a most
melancholy grimace.

Then Jane and the dancer glided off while
Judith managed to send a shaft of accusation
after her.

But it was the new partner with whom Jane
was concerned. Suppose he should ask her about
her visits to his mother!

176

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 177

"I enjoyed your dance very much," she said
at once, feeling as she did so the inanity of that
terse speech. But it would, she hoped, start a
safe conversation.

"I am glad it did not bore you," he replied.
"Sometimes one just feels that everything is —
well " he laughed boyishly. He had no in-
tention of whining, evidently.

"Don't you like to dance?" asked Jane.

"Oh, yes; this way," he replied, and the per-
fection of his step was a joy to Jane, as well it
might have been to any fortunate partner.

"But you did those dances so wonderfully."

"Oh, so so. Lots of the fellows do them, but
they only perform for fun," he parried. The
remark was unexpected and Jane felt it was
offered as an explanation. He was evidently
doing it for money.

Miss Dare swirled by and gave him a glance
that Jane caught as she turned. It might have
been imagination, but Jane thought she felt the
hand holding hers twitch. Then, as if to account
for the pressure, Mr. Castibolt attempted to ad-
just his watch-guard before again taking Jane's
hand. Nevertheless, she could not but notice the
momentary pause, and then his own sudden
realization of it.

178 JANE ALLEN:

"I think this is a great college," he said politely.
"I have often heard the boys tell of their wonder-
ful times here, but now I know why."

"We try to have successful proms," said Jane.
"As a matter of fact we have to. There is always
the— fund."

"Isn't there?" he replied. "Funds are per-
petually running down and having to be run up.
I hate them myself."

Judith went by and said something pleasant.
It didn't matter just what she said, her eyes al-
ways twinkled merrily, and she could manage to
give them their way even while she danced.

"She's lively," remarked Jane's partner.

"Yes. She's my chum. Has been all through
college. I wouldn't know how to breathe without
Judith Steam's approval."

"Stearns?"

"Yes. She's studying -" Jane just caught

herself in time. She was going to say that Judith
was studying Social Service with her.

"Specializing?" asked Mr. Castbolt,: with
polite interest.

'Yes." Jane wanted to say in what branch,
but could not bring herself to mention the work
that involved this proud, young student of an-
other college. It was very awkward.

SENIOR 179

"I will soon be through," he said. 'That is if
I stick."

'You wouldn't leave without your degree?"

"I wouldn't except — well, you see I am the
only man in a large family," he laughed.

"Oh, I see," said Jane. If she did not make
known her acquaintance with his family would he
think her — deceitful or ashamed of her field work?
She wondered, and was ill at ease.

She almost wished this dance had not been hers.
It was getting uncomfortably personal. But as
a dance it was perfect, and all the girls were look-
ing on enviously. Jane was human enough to
enjoy the situation in that respect. She sighed
unconsciously.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Not really sighing!
Isn't this all right?"

"Oh, perfectly," said Jane with embarrass-
ment. "I have a habit of sighing. Perhaps
thinking of tomorrow," she atoned.

"I might echo yours," he said, as a boy will
who wants to make pretty speeches at dances.

Both laughed. The dance was almost ended.
It would be encored, as usual.

"Like to sit it out?" suggested Mr. Castbolt,
when the dancers came to a standstill.

"I don't mind. Perhaps you would like to look

i8o JANE ALLEN:

around," said Jane. The next moment she real-
ized this was unwise. The little nooks and pretty
spots, made so attractive for the ''between
dances," were the very circumstances to be
avoided if general conversation were to be kept
up.

But she took his arm and sauntered bravely
over to the old time Dell, that corner dear to the
heart of more than one student who found "sit-
ting it out" much pleasanter than continued
dancing.

"It seems to me," said Mr. Castbolt, "I have
heard mother mention a Miss Allen of Welling-
ton. Can you possibly be she?"

Jane's face flared. She picked up a dance card
that lay upon the small table, and did other
trifling things to hide her embarrassment.

"Oh yes," she faltered with too elaborate care-
lessness. "I have called upon your mother, and
I have met those darling little ones, Joy and Jill."
This she felt might erect a safety isle upon which
conversation could be securely launched.

'They are wonderful — kids," he said, color-
lessly.

"And Mrs. Jennings is such a girl to "

She paused. He looked his question.

"I was going to say how very young she was

SENIOR 181

to be left without her husband," said Jane. Each
word seemed to choke her. If only Judith would
come.

"But Mabel is a good sport," spoke up the
brother. "Things are a little off form now, but
they'll be all right presently. Mother worries a
lot. I suppose all mothers do," he finished,
evenly.

"I have often wondered what my own would
have done with a girl like me," said Jane.

"Yours has gone?" he asked, carefully.

"Yes, but I have a darling little aunt, who puts
up with me usually," said Jane, trying to shake
off the sudden seriousness. "You see, my dad
knows your — family."

"Really?" There was genuine surprise in his
question.

"Yes; that's why I called upon your mother."

"Oh, I see." This time he sighed in perfectly
obvious relief, that is, if young men do sigh. Per-
haps it was just a little mannerism and not really
anything so effeminate as a sigh, after all. But
the smile was real — that could not be mistaken.
He was smiling broadly, and there came Judith
now with a flock of others. Jane was genuinely
glad to see them, and when Mr. Reynolds Cast-
bolt stood up more than one girl tried to flop

182 JANE ALLEN:

down in the vacant spot. And how they did stare
at Jane?

"Weary?" asked Judith, foolishly.

"No, merely interested," smiled the stranger.
"But I have to make a train, I am afraid," he
continued. "I have had a wonderful time," he
included Ted Duncan in this word of thanks,
"and I hope you will call on me at Locton some
time, Mr. Duncan. I can't ask the girls "

"But if we are passing " threatened Judith.

"Or if we should have tire trouble at your
corner," said Dozia.

"Oh, I could fix you up for any little thing like
that," replied the young man whose face still
showed some of the bronze color of that Grecian
dancer. He was bowing and making his adieux,
just as Miss Dare came through the alcove. She
was with a number of men, and one shared his
arm with her.

"Oh Renny!" she said in the most affected way,
"I am afraid we shall miss that train."

"No, plenty of time," returned the addressed
Renny. "I was just coming to you." He glanced
at his watch.

After that it was a matter of the one p'arty dis-
entangling itself from the other. The special
guests were heaped with compliments, Miss Dare

SENIOR 183

by the boys and, naturally, Mr. Castbolt by the
girls.

Everybody had enjoyed their dancing, ana
everybody hoped they would come again, and
there was the chairman waiting to see that they
were properly conveyed to the station, and there
was Jane Allen speechless when Renny Castbolt
shook hands with her!

After they had left, the prom seemed flat for
a while. Not that many other interesting couples
were not there, and not that many students had
not as many gallant young fellows waiting to
dance, to compliment, and to do all the other nice
things done at college dances, but perhaps it was
because the central group had taken a sudden
interest in Mr. Castbolt.

"Now Jane Allen," began Judith, who was
expected to begin things, she always acted as a
self starter, "what have you to say for yourself?"

"Why, I have had a perfectly glorious time,"
replied Jane lightly, ignoring the inference.

"I know that. But the question is — wasn't I
supposed to have a dance with Apollo?'3

"He didn't mention it," said Jane.

"And what's more" (Judith was bantering in
Her own peculiar way), "there's Ted Duncan.
Ted, give me your hand. There's this young man

1 84 JANE ALLEN:

who is a perfectly good and reliable partner, left
alone, on the floor, asleep at the switch, you might
say "

"And he wept all over my shoulder, didn't you
Ted?" asked Dozia.

"Not all over it. Just in one nice little pud-
dle," said Ted, winking at Jane.

'Why, I thought he wanted particularly to
dance with his nice young sister," put in Jane.
"It was under that <x>ndition that Shirley let me
have him."

"All good enough for you to say," kept on
Judith, "but wait, just wait until you want me
to do something for you — hanging on to him all

evening !

'What about your own Toots?" asked Jane.
"I didn't see you hanging on to him all the eve-
ning."

'Toots is so anxious for my happiness," said
Judith, "he hoped ardently that Apollo would
show me a few fancy steps. Well, any way that's
that. Now let's try what we can do to make up
for lost time," and she all but grabbed the in-
offensive "Toots" and swirled off before the others
had opportunity to know that another dance was
being played.

Ted Duncan reclaimed his lost partner. "I

SENIOR 185

did give little sister a turn," he said. "She and
her friend Bobbie are having a great time."

"Yes, they are as happy as any girls in Wel-
lington," replied Jane, glad to be able to revert
to an ordinary subject. It had been something
of a strain to talk to Mr. Castbolt in such a mean-
ingless way, when the meaning was only hidden
under the thinnest and most transparent ice. The
sort that melts quickest.

"She still blesses you," remarked the brother, in
a boy's way of complimenting one supposed to
be above ordinary mortals.

"Oh, I have had to neglect them shamefully
this year," Jane declared. "You see, this new
course takes up so much time."

"I fancy so. But I just wonder why that fine
chap goes out dancing with — a professional,"
Ted said suddenly, digressing.

"They make a splendid pair," replied Jane,
evasively.

"I don't think so. She is lots older and so
much more — oh, I don't know just what it is, but
it seems to me she has a sort of hold on his atten-
tion, and yet he is not exactly attentive." This
was said in a simple, straightforward way, merely
betraying one young man's interest in a fellow
student. He was puzzled, not critical.

1 86 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

"I suppose," ventured Jane, "he may have
good use for the money." She hated to say this
but it was the only excuse she could lay hold of
and she had to say something.

"Oh, of course," the tone was apologetic. "It's
just what I should have thought, considering I
was in the same boat myself last year." This was
a delicate reference to the straits Ted Duncan
found himself in when, at the beginning of the
previous year, his sister Shirley had done so much
to help him in college. "He's a wonderfully fine
chap," he added warmly.

'Yes, I happen to know his family," continued
Jane, "and they are all splendid folks — friends of
dad's," she explained eagerly.

After that it was just prom. Jane and Judith
and all the others continued to dance, to accept
compliments, and to be politely appreciative ; but
the real interest went out with the two Greek
dancers.

Nettie Brocton said frankly she would never
again introduce a novelty.

"It went to your heads," she declared when the
dance was finally all over but putting out the
lights.

CHAPTER XVI

DAWN AND REFLECTIONS

YOU'RE not sleeping, girl; what's
wrong?"
"Oh, nothing. Guess the dance went
to my head."

"Guess again. Is it that Carol Dare young
woman, Jane?"

"Not exactly, but partly." Jane was not
offering any encouragement to Judith. Sleep
might be passing by and take fright.

"Well, I think your Renny is the very nicest
chap I have met in ages. But, of course, they
always are nice when they take to the stage.
That's what takes them to it," said the persistent
Judith.

"Do you know it is almost daylight?" Jane
demanded.

"Who cares? No classes tomorrow, and if I
should get sleepy — well, I'll make it uncomfort-
able for anyone who tries to wake me up, that's
all," announced Judith.

i88 JANE ALLEN:

'Talking is my worst enemy when sleep is on
the other side of the line," said Jane. "I suppose
I should get in a few winks." A hint to Judith,

"But you won't if you don't first try to talk
it off. I know that much about psychology —
don't suppress. Now tell me all about it. I
am not a wink sleepy," coaxed Judith.

"Nothing to tell," insisted Jane.

'Course there is. Did your case get a set
back? Having both the client and the foil
present — you might say. Rather complicated."

"Carol Dare cannot foil me," spoke up Jane
louder than in the whisper strain used previously.
"I don't intend to do any more about the case.
It's absurd."

"Jane Allen! Do you mean to tell Judy
Stearns you are going to let a mere, clever dancer
outwit you? Why, she only came here to scare
you out of it. I heard Nett and Norma say she
applied for the engagement and was positively
eager to get it. Of course they didn't know that
her dancing partner lived around here, and that
his mother — was a friend of yours," parried
Judith.

"Did she really ask for the chance to perform?"

"Ask for it? She insisted on getting it. Nett
and Norrpa had no idea of having her when along

SENIOR 189

she comes and tells all the wonderful things she
can do to music. She completely swept the com-
mittee off their feet, and was engaged, and the
papers signed before the poor little girls could
turn round. It was successful enough — but she
did monopolize the boys while she stayed. I am
not saying anything about the Renny boy monop-
olizing you," teased the curious one.

"Indeed he seemed to want to avoid the crowd,"
said Jane seriously. "I had no idea of taking
him over in the corner "

"It was perfectly all right, dearie," drawled
Judith. "I did want to dance with him, just to
show some of the others how well I can dance — •
professionally, but it's all right, Janie. Don't
let that keep you awake."

"I have no idea of worrying about any dance
incident, Jude, but I am worried about the case.
Seriously, I intend to drop it."

"Go to sleep, girl, and sleep it off. You are
morbid from nerves," said Judith, half tauntingly.
"I know you will think differently in the real
morning — this is only an imitation morning, but
if you don't get blinking real soon, the real thing
will be here before you know it, and it is horrid
to get up with the same smirk and the same cast
of countanance you went to bed with. 'Tis

1 9o JANE ALLEN:

deadly to beauty. Here goes." Sounds of the
"going" corroborated the threat.

A turn over that could be heard across the
room testified further to Judith's determination.
A heavy breath — followed by a few more taken
in sequence, gave rather too mechanical an effort
to be really natural or enjoyable. But for a
time neither girl spoke.

During this period, what Judith thought was
unimportant, except as it related to Jane's special
problem, but what Jane was thinking made a
web of circumstances interesting in detail.

What a night it had been! After trying to
keep her Social Service wrork entirely out of the
pleasant affair, Jane reflected, it had been forced
upon the prom like a shadow with sinister
influence.

And now Judith said the dancer had personally
and deliberately sought out the engagement; an
agent usually attends to such things. That
would agree with Ted Duncan's opinion, that she
tried to get in at all local college dances, yet it
seems, somehow, she was most deliberate in her
attitude toward Wellington.

And Judith was now warning Jane not to let
this professional woman discourage her. Follow-
ing that line of thought came the reminder of

SENIOR i9r

Mrs. Jennings' remarks, that Carol Dare had
used her money to obtain a position which was not
actually obtained. Or was it Mrs. Castbolt who
had said that?

The wee small hours are not very particular in
choosing their brain pictures, and those now flash-
ing across the mental plate of Jane's mind were
so confused as to be exciting.

Sleep! It seemed as far away as the hills.

"Hey, there, Jinks!" whispered Judith, "Did
your nice, young man say anything leading? I
mean did he — know who you were?"

"He said he had heard his mother speak of a —
Miss Allen."

"So," sighed Judith. "Well, did he invite you
to call again or offer any little civility of that
sort?"

"Don't be silly, Jude. I merely said his family
and ours were acquainted." Jane retorted.

"What a lovely alibi!" Judith was silent
again. But the mere stopping of words did not
mean silence so far as thought went. Both girls
were simply vibrating wide-awakefulness.

"He's lovely," said Judith.

"So's Ted," said Jane, loyally.

"And Toots," said Judith, falling back into
rectitude.

192 JANE ALLEN:

"Lots of them," added Jane, indifferently.

"Didn't Doze look wonderful in that majestic
gown?"

"She always does, in any gown."

"All in all, I think it wras the best affair we
have had in a very long time," reflected Judith,
with a threatening yawn.

"I have been at dances where I have had a
better time," objected Jane, :'but I don't seem
to remember any more exciting. When I found
out that the dancer was Miss Dare "

"And when I found out that the other dancer
was Renny "

A double chuckle followed this. The girls
were still far from sleep. A stirring in the out-
door world, that indefinable motion that seems
to start the world going every morning, and
which one can never catalogue, was now
creeping in.

"Shall we get up or subside?" asked Jane,
chattering a little.

"I would like to know just one thing, Janie,"
answered her chum. "What do you intend to
<io? Are you going to give up trying to help
those lovely folks out of trouble, just because
the boy is good looking?"

"Nonsense, Judy; looks have nothing to do

SENIOR 193

with it. But he is perfectly capable and quite
talented. Also, he has a most businesslike
dancing partner, so why on earth should I inter-
fere in his affairs?" demanded Jane fitfully.

'You are putty — all balled up at that," said
Judith with some impatience. "Can't you see
that woman has him twisted around her business-
like finger? He is not doing that dance stunt
for the sport of it "

"I do believe that," Jane interrupted, "for he
said something about disliking it, or that other
fellows did it just for fun "

"Meaning that he does it for money. Why
Janie! Isn't it splendid of him to try to help
his folks out with the money he earns at these
affairs?"

Jane acquiesed. She knew this to be true,
and while it appeared he was perfectly content
to go about and do Grecian dances with Carol
Dare, perhaps he hated it.

'Well," she sighed, "as I feel now I shall not go
any further in the affairs of the Castbolts. You
know dad would be willing to forward the money
for this mortgage, but the rich uncle would never
forgive him. Besides, I cannot suggest that
through Social Service. It would be making a
dangerous precedent."

I94 JANE ALLEN:

"Oh, I know all about that," mumbled Judith.
"I wanted to buy shoes and things for my little
vagrants, and Miss Morgan almost expelled me."

"But Judith "

"My own true name.

"I am serious."

"I feared it."

"Do you want to hear?"

"Dying to."

Jane laughed. Judith was always so absurdly
jolly. She could hardly be brought to the point
of taking any matter seriously. Jane shifted
about and did not attempt to have further con-
versation.

'Well, proceed," urged Judith after a pause.
'Why get me all keyed up and then drop me
cold?"

"Judith, I was going to see the rich uncle; you
know. Had it all planned. But now, since I
have seen this young man, it makes me feel
foolish even to tlhink of asking favors for him,"
she finished witli a sigh.

"Because you undervalue your own power,"
insisted Judith. "Don't you know, girl, boys
never can ask for anything? Poor fellows! It's
hard to be a boy and have to stand alone all the
time. Girls have a much easier time of it,

SENIOR 195

always permitted to beg their way out of any-
thing, or even crawl, if need be."

' There is something in that," admitted Jane.
"I have found that girls like you and me miss
something the clinging vine enjoys, and I sup-
pose that is more true as regards girls and boys
in the same sort of comparison."

"Now you are talking common sense," chirped
Judith. "It seems to me that Renny Castbolt
is trying to dance on ahead of a very aristo-
cratic wolf that threatens to prowl. He had a
sort of sad look around his mouth, I thought."

"Not as bad as that, Judy," Jane said with
another half sigh. "But he should not be forced
to leave college, of course."

"And this crea-chure at his heels! That's
your cue, Jane. Keep him at college and get
him away from Carol Dare. He's only a boy,"
argued Judith, "and a boy is so much younger
than a girl when it comes to understanding
designing women folks."

"Well — -"

'Then you won't drop the case?" JuditH was
sitting up so that her head rested upon her hand
and in that position she could see now, in the
early morning light, the girl on the opposite side
of the room.

196 JANE ALLEN:

'If I thought-

"Didn't you promise Mrs. Jennings some-
thing?"

"She is so indefinite," answered Jane.
"Although she did admit things looked pretty
badly and expressed real anxiety on her mother's
account. This spell of sickness was alarming,
and any additional anxiety "

"There!" exclaimed Judith. "That's even
more urgent a reason why you should stick to
your guns. Just imagine that house being sold
over their heads, and Mrs. Castbolt "

"I couldn't let it go so far as that, Social
Service or no Social Service," declared Jane
suddenly, "I simply could not stand that," she
reiterated.

"I don't know whether the office would pre-
vent an actual sale or not," added Judith reflec-
tively. "After all, we are rather young at this,
and maybe all our anxiety is unnecessary. The
organization may come to the rescue."

"Oh, no. They cannot pay off mortgages.
The patrons and benefactors would not think that
good service. They must show the needy ones
how to get out of the straits and not drag them
out bodily," Jane explained. "But it is rather
nerve racking when a few hundred dollars means

SENIOR 197

so much." Again her voice fell into dismay.

"A few hundred? I thought they had to have
fifteen hundred by the first of next month?'3
said Judith.

'We could get the note renewed upon pay-
ment," said Jane. "But can you imagine Mrs.
Jennings taking the money and wasting it on
some agency? That is the curious thing."

"Of course I can. The lure of quick money
does that often," declared Judith. "Besides,
when folks have stage talent, as I told you
before, they never seem to have any sense," she
ended in a trite manner. It all seemed so use-
less, and the hour was not opportune for such dis-
cussion.

Finally both girls settled down to woo sleep.
They would be sure to be "dead tired" next day,
if this kept up. More noises outside made posi-
tive a waking world. The rumble of a wagon
and the lilt of a boy's whistle gave consciousness
to the allegory of Day's Return.

"Judith," said Jane a few minutes later, very
slowly and deliberately, "do you think Renny
Castbolt is in love — with — Carol — Dare?'3

"I — do — not!" said Judith emphatically.

"Because if I thought he was, I should never
interfere with family affairs again. How do we

198 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

know but that he may even want to leave
college?"

"Raving, Jane, raving. He wants money.
That's all he wants, and I am sure he is a per-
fectly cracker- jack student; he may yet build a
bridge over Mars, if you just hold out and save
him from that Carol Dare. I can see it, just as
perfectly as if I had a life sized painting in front
of me, with an arc light aimed at it. Carol
Dare is after Renny Castbolt, and I wouldn't be
surprised but it might be a first rate plan for you
to go in and "

"Judith Stearns! Will you be sensible," in-
terrupted Jane, a little testily. "I don't mind
helping as far as I can under the rules, but I
positively decline to get personal."

XVTiich was a pretty speech so far as it went.

CHAPTER XVII

INTERFERENCE

JUDITH was almost in tears. She burst
in upon Jane and Dozia who were "plug-
ging" at a neglected lesson.

"He's going!" she exclaimed.

"Who?" asked Dozia, managing So speaK
while Jane was attempting to do so.

"Grandpa Todd!" Judith's words had the
knell of disaster in their tone.

"Going where?" asked Jane this time.

"Away. It's all on account of that horrid
woman," moaned Judith.

"Judy, be calm," urged Dozia. "We can
guess some things, but it is hard to penetrate
your system. What is this all about, pray tell?"

Judith sank down as if she regretted the limi-
tations of a mere chair. Her weight, as she
dropped it, might have gone much further.

"Carol Dare has undermined Grandpa. She
came in here somehow or sent someone to coax

199

200 JANE 'ALLEN:

him off. Now, he's going," sighed the tempera-
mental Judith.

"Well, what's so melancholy about that?"
asked Dozia. "I thought he was a sort of charge
of yours?"

"He was — sort — of," conceded the gloomy
girl. "But I wanted to keep him here for an-
other purpose. He could help us, perhaps, to
an understanding of that adroit niece of his."
She drew her lips into a line not exactly
becoming.

"Don't worry about that, Jude," soothed Jane.
"I can almost assure you we will have no further
need to go into the case you have reference to.
Doze agrees with me, it is too complicated for a
mere senior. It requires an expert."

Judith jumped up. "I don't believe you mean
that, Janie," she burst out. "Any one can
handle a case of a house burned down and the
children in the streets, or a widow trying to live
on precarious suit-case washes for irresponsible
students, or even the boys I have, who will run
away from school in spite of my lolly-pop parties,
but it takes a very different sort of worker to
handle a delicate case. She must have a heart —
that's what is needed in a case like yours, Jane,"
she finished, more eloquently than she knew.

SENIOR 201

"Sum' thin' in thet!" "lispered" Dozia.

"And I have found out one thing that supports
my theory," went on Judith earnestly. "Carol
Dare is trying to get Renny Castbolt to leave
college. I am positive of that."

"Trying to get him to leave? How?"
inquired Jane.

"That's part of your case," returned Judith.
"I told you it was not money these folks needed;
the problem is to get them away from that de-
signing woman — pry them loose if necessary.
When you get to the bottom of your investiga-
tion, Jane, you will find she is there and all over
it." Judith spoke as if she had just heard so
many things about Carol Dare she would not or
could not attempt to voice them. She was fairly
heaving with pent up excitement.

" Where' ve you been at?" asked Dozia, who,
not being in Social Service, still professed
frivolity toward it.

"Grandpa called on me just after dinner. He
was all dressed up but nervous! Fingering an
imaginary stiff collar and all that," said Judith.
"He acted positively guilty."

"Like they do in the movies," interrupted
Dozia.

Worse than that," declared Judith. "If he

"

202 JANE ALLEN:

could have flushed with excitement he would
surely have done so, but I guess they don't change
shades at his age," she attempted to qualify.

"Had Miss Dare been to see him?" asked Jane.

"Sent for him — she was too cowardly to come
in here. That or she was afraid of me," de-
clared Judith. "Well, he almost wept on my
shoulder only he made it my hand, and he told
me — he was leavin'." Judith imitated the accent
and attempted to imitate the speaking voice of
Grandpa Todd, and she did not do so badly at it
either.

"But where's the thrill?" demanded Dozia.
"I have to finish this theme before — next year,
you know."

"Proceed. No one is stopping you," retorted
Judith. "I just felt like expressing my indig-
nation— had no idea of interrupting a cramming
match." She turned away in righteous scorn.

"LYou didn't, dear," soothed Jane. "Doze is
always impatient, you know. Take your time,"
she coaxed. 'What did Grandpa say about
leaving?"

"It was what he did not say that worries me,"
replied Judith, restored to her usual good nature,
that she, for the moment, had pretended to be
separated from. "He acted so nervous "

SENIOR 203

"Going housekeeping, perhaps," hazarded
Dozia. "That's the usual symptom. They
always fidget."

"Housekeeping? For Carol Dare?" glared
Judith.

"Does his family consist of one?" inquired
Dozia, tranquilly.

"There may be others but I have not been able
to discover them," replied Judith. "The fact is,,
Carol Dare predominates and dominates every-
body and everything she lays her hands on.
There, I had Granpa all fixed for life, and she
comes along and drags him off. You know,
girls, at his age, being taken into Wellington,;
he would never want again!" said Judith wisely.

"That's perfectly true," agreed Jane. "And,
as you say, Judith, it is a shame to disturb our
pleasant, old friend from this happy home."

"And just as soon as the Dare lady gets what
she wants — I mean as soon as she accomplishes
her purpose, — then, of course, poor, old Grandpa
may come back again and beg his way into Wel-
lington!" said Judith with bitterness.

"That looks about it," agreed Dozia, com-
placently.

"I wonder how she knew fie was here?'5
remarked Jane.

204 JANE ALLEN:

"Oh, she has friends within our ranks," replied
Judith. "She made good use of her time while
she was here at the dance. More than a few
girls are rather priding themselves on knowing
her personally."

"I hope she does not try recruiting here for her
theatrical ventures," Jane interrupted. "I
believe, Judith, we ought to do something to off-
set a possible move of that kind. There are
always a lot of impressionables in a big place like
ours, you know."

"I can't worry about that," replied Judith. "I
have enough to do now to fret over dear old
Grandpa Todd. And the girls had a birthday
shower fixed up for him," she sighed. "He told
that old story about Danny McGorry's home run
over and over again, and they enjoyed it so, they
wanted to do something for him. They had a
wonderful time all fixed up for his birthday
next week."

"How did they get the date?" queried the
indifferent Dozia.

'That's one of his stock sayings, he will be so
old at a certain time," explained Judith. "How-
ever shall I tell them he has deserted?"

"Bring him back for the party," suggested
Jane*

SENIOR 205

Judith sort of sniffed. It was plain she was
bothered even more than she admitted. Jane
guessed this was because Judith had depended
upon the old man to help out in the Castbolt
case. Not that any definite plan had been ar-
ranged for him, but in that subtle way girls have
a habit of expecting, Judith did expect some-
thing from Grandpa Todd.

Dozia went back to her papers. Jane applied
one eye to her book and kept the other shifting
to Judith's face. Judith was so plainly uneasy,
that while no nervousness could ever possibly be
ascribed to one of her sturdy type, she was, to
say the least, fidgety.

She jumped up suddenly. "I guess I'll run
over and have a chat with Ted's crowd," she said.
"They are still talking about the dance; it might
be a charity to divert them."

"Brilliant thought," drolled Dozia. "Give
them my love and tell Norma I'd love to have my
golf clubs back. She has had them for days,
and meanwhile I'm growing stiff in the joints."
She stretched out a couple to demonstrate, but
they did not seem altogether stiff.

Judith wended her way down the corridor
while Jane and Dozia fell back to their tasks.
There's no way to stop one from leaving a

«i

206 JANE ALLEN:

good home when you get it for them, is there,
Jane?" asked Dozia, as if she felt the line of
thought that was filtering through her com-
panion's brain.

"Oh, no. They are free to come and go, but
we would not take up a case again if the applicant
was unwilling to follow our advice," said Jane.

"Well, if the old gentleman leaves, will you
cast him off?"

"The organization would likely oblige* him to
look out for himself if he left a place like this
of his own accord," Jane continued. "But we
know, although we cannot say so outright, that
this niece of his has influenced him and perhaps
offered strong inducements."

"She may be really going to give him a home,"
suggested Dozia. She too had taken a liking to
the old man, with his funny stories and his
almost childish affections for Home Runs. And
Dozia had a heart, withal.

"I can't imagine that," replied Jane. "She
doesn't seem to have a home of her own, and I
know she all but broke up another. Dozia," said
Jane suddenly, closing her book and speaking in
a voice that brought her companion up atten-
tively, "do you think that young fellow, Renny
Castbolt, who danced with Carol Dare, acted as

SENIOR 207

if — well, as if he was having a good time? I

mean " she faltered, feeling her friend might

break out into ridicule at such a question, "do
you think he showed any especial interest in
his — partner?"

"If anyone else on earth asked that question,
Jane "

"Oh, yes, I know it sounds silly," interrupted
Jane, ;'but I have been confronted with a new
difficulty in the case of his family since that
prom. I feel I should not attempt to interfere
with the affairs of a family in which so capable
a young man as Renny Castbolt is nominally the
head."

"But he's not a wage earner," objected Dozia.

"No, not exactly. He does earn something
at these dances, but he is at college, you know,"
Jane went on.

"So I understand," replied Dozia. She
checked a smile and dropped her face to the
degree of sincerity. "Just what do you want to
know Janie?" she said kindly.

"I want to know whether I should go after the
other cases of families that are waiting for some
attention, for lack of field workers, or whether
I should stick to this and work out an answer
somehow? You know the big problem is to get

208 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

their folks to come to their aid, and so allow this
young man to remain at college," Jane con-
tinued. "Since the prom I have been more than
tempted to go in for the ordinary cases. I
assure you there is a stack of them waiting. Miss
Morgan asked me to investigate two tomorrow
morning. Want to go down on the railroad
district with me?"

"I don't mind if you just want me as a body
guard," said her companion, "but don't expect
me to do any interviewing. I would turn my
pockets inside out and spoil all your golden
standards," declared the untrained one. "But
as regards the other case, I would certainly hold
on to it. I believe Judy Stearns knows more
about Carol Dare than she is publishing."

"She's keen on having the case adjusted," re-
flected Jane, "and I suppose this interference
with Grandpa Todd will just add fury to her
purpose."

CHAPTER XVIII

THE INVASION,

THE girls mourned the loss of Grandpa
Todd. They had planned so many
pleasures for him, considering him their
especial adopted protege, and with the holidays
in sight, what would they not do to make the man
of their collegiate choice and of the Home Run
memories, happy?

But being just Wellington girls it was not too
difficult for them to adjust their interests, and
that "youth will be served" was their motto
without their own knowledge of it being so.

Even Judith seemed to shake off the mantle
of worry with remarkable ease. True, she did
speak of the old man, and threatened to spoil
Carol Dare's plans, but no one knew just how
she intended to do it.

It was late in November and the season had
been so wrapped up in special interests as to all
but obscure Wellington as a unit. Classes had
their functions, basketball and other sports were

209

2io JANE ALLEN:

carried on with the usual vim, big games brought
big crowds, but the one absorbing interest of Jane
and Judith wras that of their chosen, special
course: Social Service. It was like living in
an outside world and sleeping in college, so
intense was the interest in the human problem
offered through their field work.

One afternoon when the campus was alive with
young girls emerging from lecture rooms and
"labs" or other temples of light, a racket — it could
be classified as nothing else — broke in upon the
feminine laughter and girlish calls.

"What ever on earth ' began Barbara

Joyce.

"Look!" shouted Winifred Ayres.

The girls on the tennis courts, who had been
taking whatever sort of open air exercise the
deserted court afforded, stood like a flock of
birds staring at the winding path from the big
gateway.

"It's Judy Stearns!" announced Inez Wilson,
"and her rag-a-muffins !"

"A band!" declared Shirley Duncan. "Oh,
Judy has a band!" and she promptly broke ranks
to get a better view of the noise makers.

'Look at the pee — rade!" called out Velma
Sigsbee.

SENIOR 211

They looked, and saw a regular parade with
brass band and noise implements.

Judith was leading, and in her wake marched
a procession of youngsters obviously her
"Hookey Boys," as she called the truants that
came under her inspection in Social Service.

What a racket! How could a few amateur
dishpans and homemade horns make that much
noise?

On they marched and loudly they drummed
and fifed; Judith waving her hands above her
head and above other heads that happened to
come within her waving radius.

The girls came running from all parts of the
campus. Quickly they joined in the fun and
when the procession came to the tennis court,
those near by stepped into the ranks and helped
make more Bedlam.

It was a parade now of no amateur grade.
The boys, delighted with their reception, blew
tin horns and drummed their dish pans, and one
little fellow actually sported a real drum; no
doubt a relic of the previous Christmas. Flags
too were much in evidence, the color bearer
leading directly after Judith, looking neither to
right nor left, but keeping up the regulation mien
as befitted a champion of Old Glory.

£12 JANE ALLEN:

"Where are we going?" asked Velma. She
managed to tap a small, tin pail that was carried
just ahead of her, and she marched along with
the tread of a veteran.

"Coin' t' see th' college," replied a lad that
held up the strap supporting another boy's
dishpan.

Up and on they marched, and not a girl that
shouted nor one that called, swerved Judith from
her lofty purpose- -whatever that might be.

There must have been a dozen urchins in the
parade and they made noise enough to be three
dozen strong. It was a glorious afternoon and
the crisp, fall air added lusty zest to the pageant.
As they passed Lenox Hall a party of freshmen
joined in, and if anyone had a rollicking good
time it was surely the freshies. At another turn
a group of English Lit. students fell in, and
with them Jane Allen skipped into marching
step.

Many parades had traversed the grounds of
old Wellington, but it is safe to say, this was the
most novel.

"The Hookeys," said Jane to the inquiring
girls, for Judith herself would not deign to notice
a mere student.

In imitation of cornet Jane did something

SENIOR 213

between a whistle and a squeal, but it went well
and fitted in beautifully with the harmony
scheme.

"Where do we go from here?" demanded Janet
Clark. But the turn they made in the road an-
swered her. They were bound for the big
kitchen door of Madison.

"Thur — umn! thur-umn! Thut — umn-m-m-m
dum — dum!" intoned the kettles, the pans and
the youngsters.

"A ruba-dub-dub! A rub-a-dud dub thurr-
rruba-dub-rub-a-dub-a-dub ! !"

"Halt!" shouted Judith, and they halted.

"Attention!" They attended, although there
was some untoward shuffling in Jane's line.
Dozia was her partner which explains the
discrepancy.

"Miss Brocton!" called Judith. "Ask the
kitchen maids to come out and feed the troops."

A roll of the drums approved. Also there was
a mumble of voices a little off pitch.

Laura the faithful, she who fed the babies Jill
and Joy, now entered upon the scene. She held
in her capable hands a tray or was it a pan of
brown and white twisted cakes — doughnuts- -the
regular w^ar kind that made one organization
famous.

214 JANE ALLEN:

"Go over on the benches," Laura ordered, "and
I'll pass them around."

"Here bovs!" shouted Judith. "Don't dare

*/

plunder. The first boy who grabs will be court
martialed."

The youngsters may not have been positive
what that term implied, but they knew it was
something awful, and thereupon they fell back
into their respective places.

Presently the girls succeeded in seating the
parade under the big trees, that were nearest the
buildings, and so offered quite a comfortable
rendezvous for the troop.

The most partial reporter could not have said
that the boys were orderly, in fact they almost
upset Laura and her doughnuts more than once,
and even wrent so far as to snap a few of the sugary
cakes from those "fellers" smaller and more
timid than the spoilers; but taking it all in all,
it was a pretty good showing for Judith's first
attempt at drill, and by the time the eager girls
had fetched drinks of milk and one pot of
chocolate (it was dinner stuff but no matter),
and the doughnut platter was replenished and the
lads likewise, the party had already gone into
history as a complete success.

The chef came out to bear witness. He was a

SENIOR 21 5

jolly looking host, indeed, in his big white apron
and his funny square cap. His face testified to
the splendid hot meals Wellingtons were erst-
while treated to, and he laughed happily at the
youngsters as they ate his and other fellows'
doughnuts.

The excitement drew another crowd. They
came from faculty rooms, and laboratories, and
such remote temples of deep thought always
peopled by the supporters of higher education,
no matter what attraction called elsewhere.

The boys were unmindful of their spectators,
however. A treat in the process of consumption
is all absorbing, even to the powdered sugar that
frosted faces, grimy but happy.

"He's got mine, missus!" yelled a lusty chap,
taking a sprint and a jab at the entire line so as
not to miss the alleged culprit.

"Naw I aint!" shrieked the accused one.
"He's got his pockets full."

"Y'u lie—

"Here! Here!" shouted Judith, horrified that
the melee might warm up to a real boxing match.
"Sit down and I'll get you another one, Jake,
take your elbow out of Caly's mouth."

"He's allus pushin'," growled Caly.

"Aw g'wan! Y'u poor little shrimp "

216 JANE ALLEN:

"See here!" said Judith sharply. "If you can't
behave you can't have any — eats. Now that —
goes!"

The fight was over. Caly and Jake smiled
wisely at each other, and Jake may have winked.
Their companions approved expressively but re-
quired no words to do so. They knew. Every-
one seemed to know. The only persons not fully
aware were the members of the faculty. They
still looked on with a puzzled stare.

"Here you go," announced Laura, at the risk
of her platter, for no sooner had she given the
word than they went — in all directions.

'They must have been starved," said Miss
Thompson, innocently.

'They always are," replied Judith, but the in-
formation went right over the prof's head. She
still wondered.

Jane and her chums were helping, not to serve
but to conserve.

"How many pockets have you, Shaver?" she
asked one of the smallest rebels.

He felt all the soft bumps surrounding him.
Then he smiled: "I kin use me hat."

Jane gasped. His pockets were full and there
were so many of them, but — "he could use his
hat!"

SENIOR 2 1 7

"I wouldn't," she told him seriously. "You
might catch cold. The sugar is damp."

"Aw right," agreed the shaver, putting the hat
on a head nature must have delivered at the
wrong house. It was a handsome head, and the
hair was curly, and the color was glorious — a
perfect copper brown. If the fortunate little
owner was ever going to catch up with the head
it was evident he had best get at the task.

"Wherever did you find these children,
Judith?" asked Miss Eaton, in her silvery voice.

"They compose my Hookey squad," said Ju-
dith. "I am training them for self government —
the honor system and all that, you know. Here
Sam," she broke off, "leave Phil alone. I thought
you all promised to behave if I brought you up
here. I have your word of honor "

"Sure!" sang back a leader. "We's only
foolin'."

"Quit!" ordered a big fellow, the biggest of
them all. "I'll help you to keep order Miss
Stearns," he volunteered.

"Yes, y'u will!" came the retort, affirmative
in words and negative in tones.

"They certainly need training," remarked Miss
Chambers. "I never saw such forlorn little
creatures."

2i8 JANE ALLEN:

"Forlorn!" repeated Judith. "They're too
lively, that's their principal trouble. tYou could
not make them forlorn with an earthquake.
They'd love it," she finished, and irrepressible
boyhood evidently had few terrors for Judith
Stearns.

"What's the great scheme?" asked Dozia.
"Are we adopting them in lieu of Grandpa?"

"They are here to observe," said Judith loftily.
"We have had all sorts of students and others
looking over our plant, why not the youngsters
who will enjoy it most, and who need it most?"

"Good for you, Jude," sang out Ted Guthrie.
"We haven't had such a jolly crowd since the
prom. I'll help show them around. Just you
give me a detachment."

The doughnuts had gone, even to the powdered
sugar frosting that had so recently softened the
ruddy cheeks — to put it prettily. Realizing
there was no hope for more, tftie visitors stood
and showed signs of moving on — somewhere.

"Keep your seats!" called Judith. "I have
to give orders."

"Yes'm," lisped the boy witK the Handsome

head.

"Shut up!" hissed Jake into the ear next to
him, and while the exclamation was rough and its

SENIOR 219

tone explosive, Jake really was trying to help
Judith out.

"Now remember what I told you about going
through the buildings," began the worthy chief.
"You must not put your hands on things, you
must not kick the woodwork, and you must not
scratch with pencils or knives, nor sticks "

"Where would they get them?" asked Jane,
aside.

"They're always armed," replied Judith while
the boys pretended to be concentrating upon her
orders.

There was some speculating among the faculty
present, but Judith answered all objections with
the assurance of her previously arranged permis-
sion with those "higher up," so when the seniors,
and a few from the juniors and freshmen, took
the party into custody, two Wellingtons being
assigned to each four boys, the party and pro-
cession got under way again.

"We'll show them the museum first," said
Judith. "Then we'll take them over to the gym.
But don't mention the swimming pool," she
cautioned. "I want them to get back to their
parents alive."

CHAPTER XIX

HOOKEY BOYS

MANY sight-seeing parties had gone
through the grounds and buildings of
Wellington at various times, but
surely none had been more interested nor more
interesting than Judith's Hookey Boys.

She called them by that name affectionately.
They did, occasionally, play what is termed
"Hookey," truant being too mild a name for
their exploits, and it was the thought of giving
them something worth while seeing, and the hope
that such a sight as the great college with its
imposing structures, and its magnificent campus,
wrould awaken inspiration in the small offenders
from village schools, that Judith conceived the
idea of taking the party out to her Wellington.

But even so brave a chief a^s she had reason
now 'to doubt the wisdom of the plan, for what
one boy did not think of another would guess
at in the way of perpetrating the unexpected,

220

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 221

and asking the unanswerable, during the explo-
ration.

Dozia and her clan were in their happiest
element. She was towing the two reddest heads
of the entire contingent, and with that shade of
hair went, naturally, the sparkling disposition,
topped off with blue eyes and complete sets of
perfectly matched freckles.

'Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" begged
Ted Guthrie, for her party was getting too far
ahead of her to be within bounds. Ted being
fat she was not sprinting, whereas the boys in
her care were scampering over the laboratory
like some new kind of bug dodging test.

"Don't let them touch things," warned Judith,

now fully conscious of the measure of the task

she had undertaken and thrust upon her friends.

'They would just as soon drink acid as spring

water," she murmured, weakly.

"Better get them out of here," warned Jane.
'There are so many safer places '

"Come along children!" called Judith, as
quietly as a call could be effectively given.
"There's a place a lot nicer than this for you to

see.

cc

Let's try this — just this once," begged Jake.
Oh no, we have no more time here," insisted

222 JANE ALLEN:

Judith. "Don't you want to see the gymnasium?"

"The gim-a-naz-sium?" asked Jake eagerly.
"Sure I kin punch a bag !

"So kin I." Fists went out in corroboration
and the glass jars and fragile tubes on nearby
tables just then ran the greatest risk of their use-
ful careers.

It was like getting children home from an ex-
cursion to get those youngsters out of the lab,
and knowing this, Judith began to wonder just
what would happen at the gym.

Someone touched a jar with a stick and the
glass rang out like a bell.

"Who had that stick?" demanded Jane.
"Didn't we tell you boys, you were not to bring
a single thing in here with you?"

"That's his drum stick," scoffed a loyal com-
panion, for the culprit was none other than the
very best dishpan drummer in the homemade
band.

"But we told you to leave your band things
over on the bench," persisted Jane. "Here, give
me that stick, I'll give it back to you when you
are starting home."

Reluctantly, indeed, did Benny part with tfie
drum stick, but it was as dangerous as a shot gun
in those surroundings.

SENIOR 223

Teachers, professors, and English students
were following the horde with pencil and note
books. But it is one thing to hear juvenile
English, fresh from Nature's most perfect prod-
uct, The Boy, and it is quite another thing to
reduce such gems of emotional language to let-
tered words. It could not be done, the students
of sidewalk utterance gave up in despair before
the gym was even reached.

"I hope it will do them good," remarked Wini-
fred, who was hanging on to a precarious coat
that dragged away from her with such force she
felt like a child playing horse as she struggled
after it.

"It will," Judith assurecl her and others.
"These little fellows are considered the worst in
three schools, but since I've been working with
them I haven't seen them do anything half as bad
as — our own belligerents here might be tempted
to do."

"Thanks," came from Norma. But everyone
understood Judith's comparison.

What a time they had in the gym! No need
for explaining things there, but there was need
for alarm. Climbing rings, vaulting horses,
swinging clubs and punching bags!

The more timid of the Wellingtons fled out-

224 JANE ALLEN:

right. Such shouting, such yelling and such
Bedlam!

Jane, Judith and Dozia stuck to their guns,
literally, which invited sprinting, and ducking,
and otherwise escaping personal injury in more
ways than have, as yet, been made known to the
science of indoor or outdoor sports.

"Look!" begged Jane.

She was pointing to a midget on a ring, and
if a fly had happened to cross the ceiling the mid-
get surely would have flopped.

".We had better get out the fire nets," pro-
posed Dozia. "I can see disaster right now. Look
at the human moth batting its life out on the
side wall." She pointed to a blue blouse flapping
in midair, as its owner traveled the rings from
the highest point to the farthest corner.

Shouts of triumph and approval marked the
exhibition. It certainly was a great show, and
the performers were too delighted to know what
caution or restraint could possibly have meant.

"They've just got to work it off, that's all,"
said Judith with a sad show of resignation.

"Work it off? They are just getting warmed
up," declared Jane. "Here go the ones who
were afraid a moment ago."

"Get the nets," begged Winifred. "It would

SENIOR 225

be dreadful to have to take that little fellow up
on a dustpan."

"However are we going to get them down?"
asked Jane. "We can't stay here all night. It is
getting dark now."

"Think of something," entreated Judith.

"I am," Jane assured her. "But it isn't feas-
ible. I am thinking of ice cream."

"A treat! That might do it," exclaimed the
perplexed leader. "Do you suppose there are
any more cookies?"

"I don't," replied Dozia cruelly, "but we could
give them a shower."

"A shower?"

"Ye-ah, pennies you know, like they do in
Hawaii."

"That would be demoralizing," objected Wini-
fred, just dodging a swing from Jake's right.

"This will be fatal," retorted Jane, likewise
ducking a lively blow. It landed on a boy's ear
and sent him after his assailant with all the com-
bativeness his entire family had ever bestowed
upon him, added to the quantity he had
been storing up individually in his ten crowded
years.

A fight followed. Tumbling over and upon
each other and upon one another, a ball of motion

226 JANE ALLEN:

rolled around that gym like some animated army
tank. They dropped from rings, horses and other
apparatus to join in the melee.

"My sainted uncle!" exclaimed Dozia irrever-
ently. "Shall I call the— perlice?"

"No," said Judith, "the thing to do is to count
and make them hear the tally, when they may
take their corners. The only thing is sport."

"Hey listen!" shouted a group taking the cue
given by Judith.

"You can't strike a fellow when he's down,"
yelled Dozia.

But the ball still rolled.

"Mercy! They'll really hurt him," moaned
Winifred.

"Wouldn't wonder a bit," responded Judith.
If she had had weaker nerves she never would
have held out in this sort of work.

"The phonograph!" was Jane's inspiration;
and no sooner had the first martial strains of
"Beat Him To It" penetrated that din, than the
ball dissolved, and a crowd of happy, roguish
youngsters flocked over to the musical corner,
and the boy who had been under the ball merely
rubbed a bruised eye and gave out a twisted smile
of victory.

After that it was not so complicated. That

SENIOR 227

* 'music hath charms to soothe the savage breast"
was never more truly uttered, and even the
shower of pennies proposed by Dozia could
scarcely have been more effective than the un-
leashed tune.

"Please go out and get their band equipment,"
begged Judith. "I have got to get them in line
while this is — popular."

A trio of girls responded to the call to arms,
and when they returned, the dishpans and other
instruments were distributed.

To the phonograph's feeble tune the band
joined in, but even a change of needle and a
complete winding did not give the boxed music
a chance. It was all band.

'What next?" asked Jane, into Judith's ear.

"March!" shouted the valiant leader; and
strange as it may seem to a mere amateur, those
boys fell into line, and into step, and without the
slightest objection they marched around that gym
like little veterans.

"Hurrah!" shouted the cheering squad, with
Norma leading.

Responding to the applause the marchers did
their noblest, and when Judith reach the door her
conspirators guided the visitors out like sheep
going to be shorn.

228 JANE ALLEN:

Once out on the grounds their hostess breathed
a sigh of relief.

"Now, we must count heads," she announced,
and thereupon began that task.

'Where's Lem?" called out a black haired boy,
who even in the coming darkness sounded black — .
his voice was so husky.

'Where — is — he?" repeated Judith.

"He was wid us in the church," declared some-

«i
«•

'The church?" Judith questioned.

'He means the Hall," explained Nettie.
"What did he look like?"

"Description fails me," replied Judith, "but
I have got to find him. Suppose he slipped down
somewhere or got locked in "

"He didn't," Jane interrupted. "He is around
here. Let me go back and look the gymnasium

over.'

"Maybe he is injured," suggested that foolish
little Violet Nairn.

No one took the trouble to deny or affirm her
"maybe."

A hunt necessarily followed. As it progressed,
the students lost courage at every turn, but no
one admitted the weakness.

The boys were scarcely alarmed. It merely

SENIOR 229

added to their adventures, and they had plenty
of energy left to look for Lem.

All the building had to be gone over, all the
tunnels gone under, and here in the "cloisters"
the boys called again to hear the echo that now
sounded ominously in the ears of the frightened
Wellingtons.

"The kitchen," suggested Dozia. "He may
have become hungry."

But Laura had not seen anyone since the con-
tingent left en masse. Almost in despair Judith
was preparing to take the boys back to the big
bus that had brought them in, when a shout from
Jake gave the glad tidings.

"Here he is!"

And he was.

"Lem!" accused Judith. "Where were you?"

"Lookin' fer dem," said Lem.

"What?" asked Judith.

"His specks."

"Whose?"

"Grandad's," he mumbled.

"He means Grandpa Todd's," said some one
who appeared to know.

"He said he left dem on de — winder "

"Do you mean that Grandpa Todd asked you
to look for something?" Jane inquired.

230 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

:Yes'm."

'Where is he?" asked Judith, now more in-
terested in news from "Toddy" than in the boy's
safe return.

"He's at our house," replied the lad not any
too merrily.

"He got fired from here, didn't he," asked the
indelicate Jake.

"He did not," retorted Dozia. "And if he is
staying in town we will have to go in to see him
tomorrow."

"Some 'un said he got fired," Jake persisted.

"Didn't either," snorted Lem. "He's just
waitin' fer th' railroad to build a new track."

"An' boardin' at your hotel," scoffed Jake.

"Good as your'n," retorted Lem.

"Ye'ah, it is; y'u know it— 'tisn't "

Right about face there!" ordered Judith.
That bus driver will go off without us if we do
not pile in quickly." And when the last urchin
swung into the step, Mike the driver, whipped
up the horses and away went Judith's Hookey
Boys.

And the Wellington girLs had news from
Grandpa Todd!

«

«

CHAPTER XX

PLANS PRECIPITATED

I'M going after him, Jane. I feel dear, old
Grandpa is in trouble."
"Do you know that family he is supposed
to be with?" Jane asked.

"I know they must certainly have enough to
do to feed themselves," replied Judith. 'The
little fellow who went looking for the specs only
stays away from school when he is out of shoes.
I fetched a few of the boys to the party who are
not really in the truant class. You see, they were
all crazy to come."

"I should imagine so," said Jane, "and I
wouldn't wonder if they would be crazy to come
again. They seemed to have a perfectly wonder-
ful time. I rather envy you your line of social
action, Jude. I think it's a lot more interesting
than mine is."

"Only in spots, Janie. And I am sure yours
will presently assume an aspect of intense in-
terest. Just you wait until I come back from

231

232 JANE ALLEN:

interviewing Grandpa this afternoon. I am as
sure as shootin' that Carol Dare lured him off to
get him away from our influence. Now, just as
I expected, he is left high, and no doubt — dry."

"Do you think she would put him to board
in the village?" Jane asked. "I can't see what
advantage that would give her over leaving him
here."

"I don't believe she put him to board any-
where," snapped Judith. uBut there is no use
speculating. We can't tell a thing about it until
we hear his story. Then, Janie, I'll tell you and
you will see it has some bearing on your case.
I have always maintained that anything Carol
Dare touches she dominates. Now wait, just
wait until we see why she abducted our nice, old
Grandpa," Judith advised.

Jane agreed. She was perfectly willing to
wait for anything that would make her case ac-
tively interesting.

"I can now understand how monotony kills
inspiration," she said. "The very sameness of
'this Castbolt affair makes me hate it."

"Hate it! Janie Allen!"

"Well, I do," declared Jane. "It's the pro-
verbial circle without end or beginning

"You're morbid," suggested Judith. "That's

SENIOR 233

your conscience. It is prompting you to go see
the rich uncle. How much more time on that
note?"

"Not much," replied the bright haired girl,
turning away to hide the frown that went with
the statement.

"And what are you going to do about it?" asked
Judith, bluntly.

"I don't know "

"Of course you do," contradicted Judith.
"You are going out tomorrow morning to see
the big, cross, old uncle, who has money to throw
away and has a temper to peg after it. Did Miss
Morgan say she would give the matter over to —
that new Miss Traymore, if you dropped it?"

"No, she merely laughed at me when I sug-
gested it," said Jane. "I insisted I could go no
farther, and she informed me calmly, that all new
workers felt like that directly before the climax."

"There! Didn't I tell you it was coming?"
boomed Judith. "Maybe our lovely Renny will
call "

"Judith, how absurd! Renny is probably out
dancing with Carol the Light Foot."

"And the Sly Eyed," added Judith. "Well
Jane, I feel just as Miss Morgan does, that your
case is about to come to — a head."

234 JANE ALLEN:

"And here we part," remarked Jane affection-
ately, as she took the walk to the gray building
where the English lecture would presently be
given, and Judith continued on, over the paths
and down the steep slope that would bring her
up to the college store where she proposed to buy
a sheath of paper, whereupon to write up her
notes of the truant party. It would make a
wonderful report, she was reasonably assured.

The nearness of the holiday season was in the
air. Students were concentrating upon their
tasks and excluding the usual sportive interrup-
tions that had been toyed with, while the vision
of home was too distant to allow it to play and
possibly influence college morale.

Christmas soon!

That meant a clearing of the scholastic plate
and the polishing of a fresh mind and heart for
the great, welcome holiday.

Yet Jane was almost unhappy. She had gone
out to see Mrs. Castbolt but once since the event-
ful prom, and then her interview was interrupted
by a neighbor's call. Mrs. Jennings was off
again — somewhere, and the babies were visiting
also "somewhere," so that altogether Jane felt
she had done little or nothing towards a piece of
constructive family-case work.

SENIOR 235

A letter from her father added to the gloom.
He wanted to know all about "his friends" and
if Jane were going to "give them a Christmas
party or something."

No wonder the handling of charity cases re-
quired experts, Jane was reflecting. She had
taken all the advice available, gone through the
usual investigating step by step, and yet

It was at that thought she halted. Even in
her lecture hall, listening to a voice that sent
forth the gems of literature, Jane was disturbed
by the thought that she had not followed the one
direct solution: she had not gone to see Mr. Web-
ster, the rich, reluctant uncle.

And she was forced to admit that this was be-
cause she was too proud to let Mr. Kenny Cast-
bolt know that she would attempt to interfere
with his family affairs. Pride was her stumbling
block.

"His family affairs," she was repeating. "Are
they really his?"

Again, in honesty, she had to admit this was
not the real cause of her indecision. Hather she
disdained to fend with a young woman like Carol
Dare.

Not even to Judith would Jane admit this
truth. She preferred to avoid any possible con-

236 JANE ALLEN:

nection with the professional dancer, and she
knew perfectly well, that when the mysterious
end of the string would be traced it would be
found wound around Carol Dare's businesslike
finger, figuratively speaking.

The day wore on and when the hour came for
reporting at Miss Morgan's office for an assign-
ment on field work, Jane's face was, as Judith
said, "at half mast."

"Come along, honey, and help me this after-
noon," proposed the loyal friend, who knowing
Jane's high spiritedness, also knew that she was
nervously debating her problem. "I have more
to do than is healthy for me, and I would be
mighty glad to wish a few of the Hill cases on
you. They take me into such forlorn places,"
Judith elucidated.

"I promised to take up a little emergency work
this afternoon," replied Jane, "otherwise Judy,
I would be glad to help you. How many more
hours of this field work do we have to do? I have
lost count."

"Quite a few," deplored Judith. "But hon-
estly, Jane, I am so attached to my boys I shall
be sorry to give them up. Don't you think them
the most honest little villains alive?"

"Certainly they are outspoken, if that's what

SENIOR 237

you mean by honesty," Jane replied. "But they
did crib doughnuts, Judy," she teased, with just
the phantom of a smile and a half-hearted titter.

"That's part of their honesty," retorted Judith.
'They do it in public and have nothing to hide.
Others pick pockets and cash drawers, but my
boys merely pick nice, fresh doughnuts, right out
in the open. But do come along," she begged.
"I have six pairs of shoes to O.K. and the school
people insist that the bureau give shoes on Fri-
day, so as not to take the children away from
class, to try them on. The youngsters expect
a holiday with every pair of shoes, you know,
but we have to draw a line, with Christmas in
the offing."

Crossing through the "Cloister," thus taking a
short cut to the roadway, the two seniors saw
a figure just coming into the campus. As no
other persons happened to be on the path the lone
pedestrian attracted their attention.

'That looks like Mrs. Jennings," said Jane,
as they emerged from the row of alcoved stones.
"Yes, it is she," continued Jane, for the young
woman was walking briskly towards them, and
her personality could now be easily distinguished.
"What can she want?"

"You, of course," said the candid Judith. "I'll

238 JANE ALLEN:

run along. I really have to get to that shoe store
in time to meet a mother and her hopefuls. And
their feet are never easy to fit."

The young woman in the brisk, dark, business
suit, now saw and recognized the girls. There
was nothing of the sorrowing widow in her ap-
pearance nor in her manner; both Jane and
Judith noted that with satisfaction.

'What a surprise!" said Jane genuinely, as
they met. 'We have been just talking about

you."

'Thanks. And it's good to get on a campus
again," returned the stranger. UI just had to
come. Hope you are not going out, Miss Allen."

"No. I am glad to see you and will go right
back with you to our quarters. We lodge at
Madison," she explained. "Come right along."

Mrs. Jennings glanced at the brick and stone
dormitories surrounding them. "I am quite
familiar with this place, of course," she said, "but
living near to Wellington I thought it most ex-
citing to go to a far away college. The old story
about familiarity, you know," she ended ruefully.

Jane introduced Judith and after the usual
pleasantries she and Mrs. Jennings turned back
to Madison, while Judith went along to her shoe
store.

SENIOR 239

Up in room "nineteen" Jane made her visitor
comfortable.

'This is where I entertained little Joy and
Jill," she said, rather proudly, "and only yester-
day our supervisor called upon me again to ex-
plain why I brought them here."

"Oh, you mean a social worker is never sup-
posed to — take a child into a private home?"
asked Mrs. Jennings. 'When I studied sociology
I believe they did try to make us see the wisdom
of that, but" she objected, "I can see no reason
why you should not have done so."

"I did not know just then how much of a point
they all make of it," confessed Jane, :cbut I did
know the children would be dreadfully upset if I
took them away to the "

"Asylum," assisted Mrs. Jennings as Jane
stumbled over using the hateful word. "I should
say they would. I can just imagine what my
babies would do if they were actually taken into
a perfectly strange place even for a night."

'Well, you see, I had the family friendship on
my side," Jane explained. "Father and your
family have been friends for years, and your
mother, Mrs. Castbolt, had partially promised
me a visit with the babies. I was just dying to
have my friends see them. So I was able to

240 JANE ALLEN: __^_^

establish my rights to the satisfaction of the office,
although," Jane paused, "I do not believe I
would have the courage to do the same thing over
again. There is some compensation in ignorance,
isn't there?"

".You were a good friend then, Miss Allen, and
I wonder can I reasonably ask you to be a good
friend again?" The question was put most seri-
ously.

"I shall do anything within my power "

"I felt you would," interrupted Mrs. Jennings.
'We are almost ill, all of us, worrying. You
saw Renny at the prom?"

"Yes."

"And that girl's influence is flagrantly ap-
parent?"

"I do not believe she has any real influence
with Mr. Castbolt," said Jane hastily. "He
gave me the impression of being — bored with
her," Jane actually said.

"Oh, I breathe easier," exclaimed Mrs. Jen-
nings with a pathetic smile. "You know Renny
is such a boy, and I have had my own experiences
with — Carol Dare."

"Not that I am not in a position to guess at
your brother's motives," said Jane, smiling pleas-
antly, "but so far as I could judge, he has not

SENIOR 241

much interest in — public dancing. He inferred
so, frankly."

"I know Renny pretty well and I have felt
he was only doing this to help us- faltered

the young woman. "But mother and Aunt Mary
are almost distracted over it. You see, coming
right into his own home town "

"Yes, I can easily understand how that would
affect you," Jane said. "But the dance was
beautifully done. One thing certain, Carol Dare
can dance."

"I have seen her, and as you say, she does exe-
cute some wonderful figures," agreed the other.
"But you have relieved my mind. I have listened
so much to the worries of mother and auntie that
I suppose I had begun to believe some of the
alleged fancies were very real. But, Miss Allen,
I have come to see you about Renny. He is
determined to leave his college. You see our note
will actually be due very soon, and he feels it
would be cowardly for him to stay there compla-
cently, and allow us to face "

"Have you had any word from your uncle?'5
asked Jane.

"Yes, my aunt wrote and he answered. He is
as obdurate as ever, and someone keeps him in-
formed upon our actions. He knew all about

242 JANE ALLEN:

my foolish attempt to get an engagement," ad-
mitted Mrs. Jennings.

"Didn't I understand someone to say that Miss
Dare goes into his office?"

"She has a friend who works there, and I be-
lieve she did call upon uncle for a contribution
to some fund —

jnie lunu "

CCI

'Then, isn't it likely she has told him all —
the news?'2 Jane felt more hopeful with each
sentence. It was so much better to be talking
than just to keep thinking in circles.

"But my uncle would scarcely listen to one of
her type. He is so opposed to theatrical folks,"
said Mrs. Jennings, "and she is so — flashy."

"Yet," insisted Jane, "he may have a softer
spot in his heart for you than you give him credit
for. Do you suppose it would do any good if I
were to call upon him?"

"Oh, if you would !" The eyes that had blinked
nervously up to this time now looked steadily into
Jane's. "I hated to ask you, but I have hoped
upon hope that something would influence Uncle
Reynolds to — be reasonable. It isn't as if we
were asking anyone for anything outright, we
just want a loan," again she apologized.

Jane almost sighed. So many people wanted
that kind of loan, she had come to know, even

SENIOR 243

in her short experience with the family case
work.

"I tell you," she spoke up, beaming with a
new interest, 'Til go out to Trent City and have
a little chat with Mr. Webster. I have had a
letter from Dad and that will give me an open-
ing. He will, I am sure, be interested in meeting
a daughter of Henry Allen's, even if she does
finally have to broach a delicate subject."

"Miss Allen, I can't tell you how I feel "

"I know all about it," Jane interrupted kindly,
"but don't count too much on the outcome. I
may be more unpopular than an — actress. I be-
lieve there is a general antipathy toward Social
Service workers as a class, and I hope I shall not
be obliged to show my credential to your uncle
until I have reached his heart through the claim
on Dad's friendship."

So, the important step was finally planned,
and the rich old uncle had no possible means of
knowing anything about the trap Jane was set*
ting for his retarded family sentiment.

CHAPTER XXI

A LION IN HIS DEN

SITTING in the outer office of the Webster
suite in the New Baird, Jane experienced
a premonitory twinge. She was sensitive,
as all highly strung temperaments are apt to be,
and she rather dreaded opposition directly aimed
at her motives. She would hate to have this im-
portant Mr. Webster accuse her of meddling.

'Too late to get fussy and choosey now," she
told her misgivings. "You are in Social Service
not Social Conventions."

A liveried boy appeared, and in a way without
words made known that Mr. Webster would now
see the caller in his private office.

Jane looked a veritable business poster as she
followed the functionary. From the cut of her
tailored suit (it really was her skating costume),
to the tilt of her brushed wool cap (also a sport
requisite), she looked smart enough and suffi-
ciently businesslike to satisfy the most exacting.

244

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 245

The usual mahogany and glass equipment con-
fronted her within the second door. Also, she
there looked upon the one trim clerk who sat,
with head bowed, over a corner desk, while at
the big central desk she met the eyes of a man —
Mr. Reynolds Webster, certainly.

He gave her one sharp look and then pointed
to a chair. It was so near his own Jane felt like
shifting it a little, but she merely adjusted it a
foot further back as she took it.

"Miss Allen?" said the magnate, not unkindly.

"Yes, Mr. Webster?" Jane's voice betrayed
not the slightest subservience.

"Yes, I'm Mr. Webster," admitted the gentle-
man, "and I believe you are the daughter of my
old friend, Henry Allen. How is your dad?"

"I had a letter yesterday and he appears to be
in splendid health and spirits," answered Jane
promptly, glad the conversation had started on
safe lines.

"Henry was always in good spirits," confirmed
the big man with the wonderf ul gray head. Jane
felt she had scarcely ever seen a head of hair so
gloriously gray and so becoming. He shifted
politely in that friendly attitude, Jane decided.
"And I believe you are at Wellington?" he asked
further.

246 JANE ALLEN:

'Yes, a senior there. The last year is crowded
with possibilities, if not fraught with pitfalls,"
ventured Jane.

"That's about right, I guess," replied Mr.
Webster. "But for a young woman, college
seems a requirement. I am not so sure it is al-
ways good for young men, though. It keeps them
out of the business field too long. Gives others
a chance to walk off with the — plums," he con-
cluded; and Jane saw the case of Renny "going
down."

She had determined that the only way to go at
her task was to go at it promptly; no hedging,
fencing, nor pretenses. And the man before her
seemed to make that plan more imperative than
she had even imagined it would be. It would be
obviously impossible to coax or cajole Mr. Web-
ster. Jane decided that, before she had gone
into the second paragraph of her conversation
with him.

"But college also keeps young women away
from their chances," she smiled, "and don't you
think we need all the opportunity we can claim,
these days?"

He chuckled. "I have heard folks say some-
thing like that," he admitted. "Girls at home do
have a sort of start on you. But then, you learn

SENIOR 247

business at college, and homemaking is a busi-
ness proposition," he declared earnestly.

Jane nodded assent. Was this intended as a
reference to Mrs. Castbolt's home, she wondered?

Now was her time to fire the first gun. She
figuratively jerked the cord.

'You may possibly know, Mr. Webster, that
I am taking a special course in Social Service,"
she began bravely. But he interrupted:

'That's the agency that tells us how to spend
our own money, isn't it?" There was just a shade
of irony in the query.

"Not so bad as that," defended Jane. "We
only try to tell you how to give your money
away," she corrected.

"Pretty good! That sounds just like Henry
Allen!" he chortled. "I don't mind that nearly
so much as having an agent checking up on my
cigars." And again he coddled a laugh until it
wheezed.

Jane was now feeling more at ease. At least
he was not going to "bite her head off," and there
was something about him very like her dad. Per-
haps the mines had turned out good natured
human products in their time.

"I hope you won't think I am interfering in
your private affairs, Mr. Webster," she began

248 JANE ALLEN:

again, "but, the fact is, I am interested in the
little difficulty your sister is going through "

"I don't think you are interfering in mine,"
he said a trifle sharply, "that's theirs." His hand
came down upon the desk with a loud pat or slap.
He did not thump, Jane was glad of that. And
she was prepared for his objection.

"I have no idea of asking any favors for them,"
she went on evenly, "but in my position I must
seek out their own recourses. We first go to
the family before wre go to the public," she
explained.

'That's sound enough," agreed her listener.
'The public has enough to do to attend to its
own business. The individual should be made to
see his or her own personal responsibility towards
society." Jane was wondering how deeply he
had gone into the psychology of Social Service.
This sounded academic.

"I am sure you know the details of your sister's
plight," she continued. "It makes me think of
a ship laden with bounty trying to land and
being stranded," she suggested. "They will soon
be safely floating, but just now the son can't
get his cargo ashore."

"Oh," said Mr. Webster. "Oh," again. He
was evident!}7 thinking of the simile and quarrel-

SENIOR 249

ing with the reflection that included his nephew's
plight.

Jane sat, silent. He would have to answer
that, she determined.

Mr. Webster moved his papers, and shifted his
blotter, and did that line of acting so popular
with the irritated financier.

''What— do they want?" he asked finally.
"Have they sent you here?" Then before Jane
could reply, he checked his apparent rudeness.
"Not that I am not happy to see you, Miss
Allen. Don't misunderstand me. I appreciate
young women, or young men, for that matter,
going into business, and this course of yours
means work. I know right now how much this is
costing you," he said politely. "But why can't
that precious nephew of mine do his own beg-
ging?" he demanded sharply.

"I have only met Mr. Castbolt once," defended
Jane promptly, "and my impression was, that
not only would he not ask anyone to beg for him,
but he would not stoop to do so himself," said
Jane, with a flash of her Allenesque manner that
defied controversy.

Mr. Webster looked over his glasses quizzically.
He was not exactly glaring, but he looked
through her as far as human sight travels, and

250 JANE ALLEN:

Jane felt a little shiver tickle her consciousness
under his scrutiny. This was clever fencing,
after all.

"Ren was a promising boy," mused the uncle,
presently, "and for the life of me, I can't see what
got into him."

"I believe he is doing splendidly at college,"
Jane said. Now it was her turn to squirm. She
hated to talk of Renny Castbolt's private affairs.

"At college, perhaps," conceded her host.
"But what's got him to going around doing fool-
ish dances at parties? Who ever heard of a self-
respecting young man going into that sort of
thing ?" His opposition was now unmistakable.

"I believe he is able to earn money that way,"
Jane replied, "and he has, I believe, not actually
gone into public. Among colleges there is a sort
of fraternal understanding concerning private
performances. Many of the best send regular
troops out on the road during holidays."

"They do?" he snapped.

'Yes. Dramatic and other talent of the stu-
dents can be used and even developed in that way.
And you know there is always the chronic fund
to be worked up. This sort of thing helps a
whole lot."

"Oh, I know that. What I haven't been asked

SENIOR 251

to support hasn't been thought of yet — but it will.
I have no doubt of that," he nodded fatuously.
Again he pushed his papers aside. This move
portended direct action on the question, Jane
knew.

"And you say he gets money that way? It
must be precious little " he almost scoffed.

"No, Mrs. Castbolt told me he sent home one
hundred dollars the other day," Jane informed
the objector.

"Don't say? Well, that's not so bad. But
who would pay that for a dancer?" he wanted to
know.

'This young woman who arranges for the per-
formances is rather a shark of a business woman,
I believe," said Jane, hating herself for doing so,
"And she makes all the engagements."

A frown glowered over the bushy brows. The
"young woman" was no favorite, evidently.

"And a nephew of mine," every word was
drawn out scornfully, "is willing to dance in pub-
lic with — an actress?"

"I didn't know Miss Dare was a professional —
that is, I did not understand she was publicly
known as such," said Jane, weakly.

As they talked she had noticed the girl at the
corner desk shift around uneasily from time to

252 JANE ALLEN:

time. Just now she glanced up in open question
to Jane's remarks.

"Miss Stone," said Mr. Webster addressing
her, "you may take dictation from Mr. Mat-
thews, if you will."

The girl, pad, and pencil, also the inquiring
look, disappeared through the glass door,
promptly.

'They are confidential, of course," he referred
to the secretary, "but even confidence has its
limitations," he argued wisely.

Secretly Jane applauded. She had been rather
embarrassed with the young woman's presence.
Her own work was so very confidential, yet she
could not have suggested the private conference
now being arranged. She picked up courage
instantly. She would now defend Renny Cast-
bolt in spite of his uncle's prejudice.

'You see, Mr. Webster," she went on, "when
I undertook to investigate Mrs. Castbolt's diffi-
culties I did so because dad expressed a wish to
have me keep away from the general work. Not
that I am above it," she hurried to make plain^
"but because he was opposed to me doing any-
thing at all in the Social Service line. He's a
dear old fashioned dad, of course," Jane conceded,
"but he scarcely realizes a young woman's idea

SENIOR 253

of true democracy. For instance, that the hum-
blest case coming under the demands of confiden-
tial registration may represent the welfare of not
only one worthy person but of an entire family,
would never occur to him/' she explained. "Cir-
cumstances are such subtle facts to deal with,
but still they are often very obstinate."

'Worse luck," commented her listener. "Of
course, my dear young lady, I would object
strenously to anyone describing me as a hard-
hearted brute, you understand, and very likely
I have even done some little things now and again
to help such work as you are engaged in," he
continued humbly, '"but the fact is, I cannot
stand my own folks betraying inefficiency. We
are Websters," he declared, "and we always suc-
ceed. You must know they have all been
provided for "

"I do," interrupted Jane. "And I also know
that Mrs. Jennings made a foolish business vent-
ure at a critical time."

"Exactly. And with that same lady her
brother is in partnership with," said the uncle,
sharply. "How do you account for that? It
doesn't exactly jibe, does it?53

Jane now felt her apparent necessity of con-
centration. It was not an easy task to explain

254 JANE ALLEN:

away the business weakness of the two Cast-
bolts.

"But with Mr. Castbolt," she said, "it is merely
a matter of performing for a prearranged sum;
with his sister it was different. She trusted to
precarious conditions and possibilities," Jane
felt her words were scarcely direct enough, yet
she feared to be too frankly positive. Aggres-
siveness? Never in Jane's plan!

"Well?" said Mr. Webster. This one word
meant plainly "what do you propose" and Jane
took up the challenge instantly.

"If Mr. Castbolt can stay at college for a few
more months he will have a degree that will give
him the best possible chance in business," she
declared. "If he leaves now, — which he threatens
to do and will surely do unless his mother's
anxieties are relieved — he will have lost what they
have all made such sacrifices to obtain. A man
from that college is a master engineer, and even
dad would be glad to have Mr. Castbolt go out
our way and take up engineering. He has re-
tired actively, of course, but he still controls big
interests."

"Oh, ho!" sang out the financier. "So that's
it ! Got it all fixed up to take the boy "

"Oh, really," interrupted Jane in burning con-

SENIOR 255

fusion, "nothing is arranged nor even thought of.
I merely mentioned the chance that can come to
a graduate of Sargeant's." Jane was blushing
furiously and Mr. Webster was enjoying the
sight of it. "Dad did say they could use a new
man," she managed to continue, "and I naturally
was reminded that Mr. Castbolt would soon be
ready to take a position."

"You don't mean to tell me that Henry Allen
would stand for a degree?" scorned the veteran
of the mining business.

"No, he would not," declared Jane. "Dad
would not be influenced by a college guarantee,
but many others would, and dad has become so
modern since I came to Wellington, that he
speaks of college men in terms of graduates,"
Jane faltered. "You know, and he knows, that
big contracts are not given to men who cannot
be vouched for, and only a degree can vouch for
any complete competency." Jane felt like a
valedictorian but stuck to her guns.

After that, Mr. Webster did not hesitate to
confer with himself secretly. He left Jane sit-
ting there while he did so. The big, gray head
bent over articles on his desk quite invisible to
his earnest eyes, and his broad shoulders were

256 JANE • ALLEN:

squared to support any reasonable burden. His
entire attitude was one of concentration.

After a few tense moments he turned to Jane.
"I'll tell you, young lady, what I'll do," he said.
1 The holidays are almost here, and the young
fellow will have some time on his hands. No use
leaving him to dance his reputation away — what
he has left of it," he qualified; "so I'll arrange to
take him in here — just to see what he can do.
We have plenty of the work he is supposed to
understand, and this will show what sort of use
he has been making of his precious time. I'll
give him a regular salary — no bounty or any-
thing of that kind — and when he does wind up his
famous college course, perhaps we can come to
regular terms. In the meantime you can tell
my sister not to worry. No one is going to put
her into the poor house," he said blandly.

Jane knew what all this meant. He had capit-
ulated. Renny would be taken into the office
and then Carol Dare would be obliged to look
for a new dancing partner!

A wave of secret satisfaction suffused her as
she expressed her thanks to Mr. Webster.

"After all," she said, "I did not think of that.
You see you know more about Social Service
than I do. We always try to find a means of

SENIOR 257

assisting the applicants to help themselves. This
is — ideal."

And she went off with a picture of Carol
Dare's indignation, a vision of Mrs. Castbolt's
and Mrs. Jennings' delight, and a faint, far
away sketch of Renny Castbolt's attitude toward
her accomplishment.

Which, she wondered, would ultimately stand
the search light of a fair trial?

CHAPTER XXII

JUBILANT JUDITH

NOT even Jane's wonderful news quieted
Judith to the point of listening to it.
"I knew it! I knew it!" she kept
telling Jane. "I found dear, old Grandpa all
sad and lonely in the pokey, little place. She
had lured him away with false promises,"
declared the excited senior.

"Sit down, do," begged Jane. "You have
your hat on crooked and the fringe of your scarf
is locked in your bag. There." Judith came
down but not exactly sitting. "Now let's hear
your wonderful news."

"I found him at the Rankin place," began
Judith. "That niece, if she is worthy of the title,
actually told him he must leave here. That if
he did not she would tell other members of the
family who would promptly clap him into an
institution. As if he is indigent — a man willing
and well able to work at some things," she
qualified.

25*

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 259

"But it is not unusual for families to try to
get rid of old folks by clapping them into insti-
tutions," remarked Jane. "How did he happen
to go to these Rankin people?"

"The poor, old fellow!" Judith's sentiment
was in her way. 'That Carol Dare came here
and first offered to bribe him "

"How?"

"Said she would get him a place to tend horses,
and you know he just loves animals "

"I didn't," said Jane, dryly.

"He does," reiterated Judith. "Well, she
took him off and after she had him all worked
up to the wonders of living on some mythical
millionaire's bounty, she asked him to go out
to Ivy Hall; that's the Poor Farm, you
know, and to stay there until she completed
arrangements."

"Of course he didn't go?"

"Not he. He ducked, ran, scooted and fled,"
panted Judith. "Under pretense of wanting
something from the little store he went there,
and I guess he got out the back way, for he
escaped," she finished gleefully.

"And what about Miss Dare? Isn't she
looking for him?"

"All the good it will do her! He knows better

26o JANE ALLEN:

now. I, Judith Stearns, told him what a simple-
ton he was, and how he should have let me know
in time to tell him the same thing before he
started off. Now I can't possibly ask to have
him taken back here ; and our scientific system at
the office would never agree to considering his
case over again; so there you are."

"But how is he situated at the Rankins?"
pressed Jane with real interest. Her own suc-
cessful morning at Mr. Webster's office lent
benefaction to the whole world of needy ones,
including, especially, Grandpa Todd.

"Not situated a-tall," droned Judith. "Merely
staying there hiding, and fearful the wonderful
Dare will find him out. But Janie, I told you
she would quiz him. She wanted to know all
about our work at Castbolt's."

"But he knew nothing about it/" parried Jane.

"Certainly not." Judith was emphatic. "But
she actually wanted the simple, old soul to go out
to Castbolt's and tell them that we, you and I,
were simply using their distress as a means to
obtain facts. I suppose she said 'statistics' for
when I suggested that term he agreed to it, but
'facts' were his words. He was indignant that
she should malign us, you may be sure. She
asked him to turn the family against us in any

SENIOR 261

way he could, but especially she insisted that our
work at the bureau was all bluff, done for college
material, and in no way connected with the
regular service."

"No danger of the old man taking that com-
mission," said Jane, "but still, if he had not
known us pretty well he really might have
suspected us."

"I knew, just as well as could be, that Carol
Dare would never let that dear, old man alone,
once she found out he was here, and that I, your
best friend, brought him here. I am your best
friend, am I not?" cooed Judith.

"Unconditionally," replied Jane, beaming and
glowing. "Is that all, Judy?"

"Not quite. I asked Grandpa some ques-
tions myself," she admitted.

"Along what line, pray?"

"How this little Sarah Smith got to be Carol
Dare, and what might have become of some of
the money she has invested for other folks," said
Judith bluntly. "Ever since you told me she
took Mrs. Jennings' money, I have been wonder-
ing how many automobiles she bought with it."

"Judith Stearns!"

"The same. Don't you think she would take
a flyer on another girl's money? I don't mean

262 _ JANE ALLEN: _

that she would steal it, but she might make a
very poor personal investment that would never,
by any chance, net profit," declared Judith
without apology.

"Oh, I guess she tried to get the theatrical
appointment for Mrs. Jennings," Jane said.
She waited around offices and all that, I'm

"

sure."
"

No sign that she paid for the waiting oppor-
tunity though," retorted the other student.

"What could be her motive for trying to
harass those people, Judy? She wouldn't ex-
actly get rich on their pittance," deliberated
Jane.

"No, that's not the idea, Jane. I wonder you
are so sweetly innocent."

"As to what?"

"To Carol Dare's motives, of course."

"You mean she has designs upon Renny?
Queer way to get around him, don't you think?"

"You are still raving," Judith assured her
chum. "She is not trying to get around him, she
is trying to get him. Just wait and see if I am
not right. I have sent Grandpa Todd out
scouting."

"Judith, you must not do the least thing in
this case," warned Jane. "It is a principle, you

SENIOR 263

know, that only one can be on a case at a time,
and Whatever you would do could not possibly
seem authorized, especially if you went about it
secretly." Jane was annoyed now. What if
her good natured friend should lead her into
trouble? This was a confidential matter and
should surely not be treated lightly.

Judith saw her discomfiture. "Oh, don't
worry, old dear," she crooned, "I'll not disgrace
you. But I am not going to let any Dare woman
interfere with my case. Grandpa was here and
she lured him away. There is no denying that.
Also, she tried to get him to blackmail us — is
that what you call it? Surely you cannot con-
done that," she went on. "All I did was to ask
him to ask her a few questions. She doesn't have
to answer them if she thinks they would go
against her," finished Judith defiantly.

"Well, be careful, that's all, Judy. I know
your heart, but I have not quite as much confi-
dence in your "

"Head? Say it and perish," threatened the
other, raising a pillow in mid-air. "And now go
ahead and tell me about your trip. What did
Uncle Webster say?"

"Nothing more for you to report?" asked Jane.
"I was all set for a thriller."

264 JANE ALLEN:

"I have the clue and the thriller is on the way,"
replied Judith. "I told Grandpa to ask Carol
Dare who was behind all the financial pressure
that was being put upon the Castbolts. You
know, Jane, it is very unusual for that sort of
trouble to come so unexpectedly. They have
always had plenty of means, or at least sufficient,
and just when the handsome young man — ahem
— when he is about to turn himself out of college
with honors, then something blocks the play,"
declared Judith.

Jane laughed. Judy was, as ever, irresistible,
but the grain of reason given out was unmistak-
able. In fact, it had occurred to Jane that the
situation at her friend's home had developed
rather suddenly.

"I had a very good time at Mr. Webster's
office," she volunteered. "I thought you would
be so anxious to know the details you would come
to meet me, instead of which you tell every last
word of your own story first," Jane pouted,
prettily.

"Simply clearing the tracks, dear, I want a
perfectly fresh mental plate for your tale. Now
proceed. I am all properly focussed."

"I won out," said Jane calmly.

"As to what?" asked Judith.

SENIOR 265

'The entire proposition."

"Will he pay off the debt?"

"I didn't want him to do that. You know we
<ion't work that way, Judith. I am surprised
that you expect such spectacular tricks from real,
standardized work."

"Oh, I think he should at least relieve their
worries," proposed Judith. 'We had a little of
that in class this afternoon. Our sociology seems
rather tame under Professor Maibe now, doesn't
it?"

"Yes, theory is nothing like practice, after all,"
said Jane. "But you must not ask miracles.
They're not healthy these days, Judith."

"Then, in what way did you win out?"

"This good old unk is going to take Renny into
his office," Jane intoned, in a real sing-song

voice.

"Oh goody-good!" echoed Judith. "That's a
miracle! See if it isn't! Now what will Carol
Dare do, poor thing? Go out in the bam, and
keep herself warm, and hide herself under her
wing, poor thing!" she chanted, using the old
nursery rhyme to suit her special purpose.

Jane laughed and tossed a bon-bon at her
companion. It was the hour just after dinner,
and many of the girls were out on the grounds

266 JANE ALLEN:

taking a stroll before nightfall. But the two
Jays, as they had been affectionately called, were
too eager for a chance to tell each other the news
to delay it longer than absolutely necessary.

"I thought at first he was going to be
grouchy," Jane went on with her story, "but he
was just as nice as pie when he found I meant
business. Oh, I tell you, Judy, you would have
been proud of me if you could have heard me
stand up for our rights."

"Pity I couldn't have," said Judith dryly.
"But how, when, and where is the boy going into
business? Not to interfere with college, of
course?"

"During the holidays," Jane informed her, and
then continued to relate the entire proceedings.
When it came to describing the office surround-
ings she mentioned the meek and humble secre-
tary who sat in the corner and was dismissed in
spite of her assumed discretion.

"What did she look like?" Judith inquired.

"Not flashy but — smart," Jane described her.
"She pricked up her ears when the stage was
talked of. I hope Carol Dare has not been
interesting her in a ka-ree-er."

"How ever does she get into those important
offices?" Judith questioned.

SENIOR 267

'They are all listed, you know; and I expect
she works herself in with the colleges by doing
an odd good turn for them," Jane said. "Mr.
Webster told me she had collected from him, I
think."

"I wouldn't wonder but she would be that
adroit," reasoned Judith. "I suppose Mrs.
Jennings asked you to go to see Mr. Webster,
when you went so promptly, dear," she remarked.
Just then a step in the hall told of visitors ap-
proaching, and Judith was hurrying to get all
the points covered before they should arrive.

"No, she didn't ask me but I offered. She
was in real distress, and I can hardly wait until
morning to go out with the great news. I am
mighty glad I have no class 'till eleven. That
will just give me time. There's Dozia, and
some of her cohorts," Jane broke off. "I sup-
pose they will w^ant to know about it all. But
Jude, don't, now, don't tell them anything. You
know we cannot discuss "

"Anybody home?" called the voice of Dozia.
"We have come to offer congrats and condoles,"
she said, entering and draping herself out on the
couch. Winifred and ISTorma were with her and
they took the seats most convenient — the pillowed
floor.

268 JANE ALLEN:

"Why the Congrats?" asked Judith.

'You're popular. Your party was a huge
success. The girls are clamoring for a chance
to get in on your society course, I mean the
poverty course, or whatever you wish it to be
known by."

"Thanks; that's lovely. Now what about the
condoles? Who sends them and why?" Judith
asked again.

"They're for Janie. She's doomed to sorrow,
Her wonderful dancer — is — en-gaged!"

"Who?" demanded Jane, not responding to
their hilarity.

"Mr. Reynolds Castbolt, the Grecian dancer,
who distinguished himself in Apollinarian poses,"
said Dozia, foolishly.

"What are you joking about, Doze?" asked
Jane. "Did you hear anything new?"

"Sure-lee, I did. Why else have I come?"
fended Dozia.

"Who says he's engaged?"' asked Judith.

"A mutual friend. She knows the young lady
very well," drawled the lanky, albeit, graceful
Dozia.

"And who, pray, is this young lady?" anxiously
inquired Judith.

"Who else but his dancing partner, of course?

SENIOR 269

The wonderful light foot, Miss Carol Dare,"
announced Dozia in semi-professional tones.

Jane and Judith could only gasp. It would
take skill to obtain the intelligent details from
this group of "reactionaries."

CHAPTER XXIII

SURPRISING NEWS

WE have about twenty minutes before
we drift off to that patent lecture,
guaranteed to tell us how to obtain
handsome husbands," drawled Judith. "They
call it something mysterious, but I hope it's that,
anyway. So girls, let's get busy. Tell us what
you mean by the news?"

1 Why, is it so startling?" inquired Dozia. "I
had no idea Janie was so far gone. Why couldn't
the Greek god become engaged to his dancing
partner?"

"Don't be a whimsy, Doze. You know I have
no objections to his becoming engaged to the
whole Greek kingdom if he sees fit, but the

point is " Jane paused and gave Judith a

beseeching look.

"Go ahead," urged the inconsiderate Dozia.

'The point is — you were saying "

270

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 271

"You will have to excuse me from further dis-
cussion of private affairs in this way," said Jane,
loftily. "I don't think I should be a party to
frivolity that borders upon gossip. You see, I
have learned something in the despised service

course.'

"I'll tell Mars you have," answered Dozia, a
charming sweep of her long arm and an irre-
sistible note in her well trained voice entirely
negativing the attempted slang. "All the same,
what are we going to do about it?"

"What?" demanded Judith.

"The loss of our hero. He'll never dance for
us again," wailed Dozia, helping herself to a red
apple and then squashing the big, blue cushion
under her left arm.

"We have only a few minutes, Doze," warned
Winifred. "Please don't take root there."

"This takes no longer than any other pose and
it's heaps more becoming," retorted Dozia.
"But really girls, aren't you surprised? Did you
think he loved the lady?"

"I don't believe he is engaged," snapped
Judith. "According to our best and most re-
liable information he is booked for a most thrill-
ing career and he will promptly emerge upon it
when his college hands out the discharge papers.

272 JANE ALLEN:

Do you fancy a fellow would toss up a chance
like that just to go dancing?"

"It has been known to happen," said the tall
girl.

"Who told you?" asked Jane, collecting her
lecture material and preparing to break up the
party.

"A friend."

"Someone who knew what she was talking
about?" Judith particularized.

"Well, she's a very great friend of the young
lady in question," replied Dozia, disconnecting
her arms from the pillow. "She simply 'adores*
Carol, according to her own admission."

It was useless to probe further. The students
went reluctantly to Downs, the hall where the
uncertainly termed lecture was to be delivered.
Beyond a few gasps from Judith to Jane, and a
series of significant nudges given in return, the
unexpected and unwelcome news was disposed of
for the time being.

Quickly as the regular work was finished next
day, and the time for social field work entered
upon, Jane hurried to the office to make a brief
report and then hastened out to Oastbolt's.
Judith had determined to seek out Mr. Todd
again, and ask him what he knew about the

SENIOR 273

reported engagement; so she set forth on that
quest.

It was disquieting, to say the least. Yet, un-
likely as it seemed that young Renny Castbolt
would become engaged just when so much de-
pended upon him, still, as Dozia flippantly
remarked, "it had been known to happen."

Jane determined not to make any reference
to the engagement report in her talk with Mrs.
Castbolt and Mrs. Jennings — she hoped both
would be at home. She would simply bring
them the good news of Mr. Webster's change of
heart, and depend upon circumstances to adjust
tjhe remaining uncertainties.

It was a bleak, drab day — winter was crush-
ing a heavy heel upon the last hopes of vegeta-
tion, and outdoor growth. It soon would snow —
the air was thick with an invisible blanket and a
gloom unmistakably that of real, despotic
.Winter. Jane alighted from the trolley and
made haste to the Castbolt homestead. The chil-
dren were playing out of doors and they rushed
to meet her. Hanging on either side of her coat
they accompanied her to the living room, prat-
tling in childish glee that she could have come
to see them again.

Only a few minutes were allowed the tots to

c«
tt

274 JANE ALLEN:

indulge their delight in, then Mrs. Jennings
banished them again to the "fresh air," thus
affording Jane and her news full and free scope.

It was unbelievable — Mrs. Castbolt said so,
and Mrs. Jennings (beamed the relief she was
experiencing.

I found him entirely reasonable," said Jane,
and I had no trouble whatever, in bringing him
to an understanding. You know I always told
you that an old gentleman's heart is the most
reliable of human assets," she contended.

"But you see we have had so little opportunity
for really keeping in touch with brother," Mrs.
Castbolt was explaining. "He is away so much
of the time."

"And you know, mother dear, he has been very
stubborn," blurted out youth, in the person of
Mrs. Jennings. "I tried to see him, of course.
I did not sit back and let this come upon us
without doing what I could to prevent it."

'You are right, daughter, you did try to see
him. But there was an old grievance, you
know."

Jane guessed this reference was to Mrs. Cast-
bolt's marriage, which, she had said, did not suit
the temperamental brother.

"It may be only an opening wedge," Jane was

SENIOR 275

saying, "but I feel once Mr. Castbolt is given
an opportunity to show his ability, and the old
prejudice against a college boy is dispelled, your
family difference will, at least, have been ad-
justed."

"Renny will show him what he can do," de-
clared the sister, proudly. "He is so much like
his uncle that they will be a pair in interests and
efficiency in no time. Uncle is a regular shark
in business."

If only that report about the engagement were
not true, Jane pondered, although she never for
a moment credited it; still it was annoying to
have it circulated.

Mrs. Castbolt was fussing about, plainly try-
ing to hide her agitation in activity. She listened
and talked, but apparently could not sit still.
That her brother, Reynolds, should come to their
rescue was not one mite less gratifying to her,
than was the fact to Mrs. Jennings, that Tier
brother, Renny, should foe given a chance to show
his worth. It was a combination of brothers and
son, and while Jane tried to grasp its significance,
she just wondered how she would have felt had
she ever had a brother starting out in the big and
interesting game of life, like this.

"Did my brother say he would keep my son on

(C

«

276 JANE ALLEN:

after he finished college?" asked Mrs. Castbolt,
although the details had been very clearly stated
before.

We did not discuss that," replied Jane kindly.
You see, Mrs. Castbolt, I was depending upon
— Renny" (she paused after she used the
familiar name) "to solidify the temporary plans."

"Oh, he will, I'm sure he will," repeated the
fond mother earnestly.

They were not the sort of persons who gush
and gasp over things, but they expressed their
relief from the keen anxiety in subtly unmis-
takable ways, nevertheless.

"Shall we tell Renny at once?" debated the
sister. "Or would you wait until he comes home,
mother?"

"Tell him at once," decided Mrs. Castbolt.
"It will be a great relief to him — this sus-
pense " She trailed off in a gentle sigh.

'Then," said the young woman, as Jane arose,
"do you suppose the — note will be taken care of ?"

"I did not mention money, directly," Jane
replied. 'You will have time to arrange that
after your brother comes home. You see the
note was extended upon the request of Miss
Morgan's office," Jane explained.

"Oh, was it?" exclaimed Mrs. Castbolt.

SENIOR 277

"I am so glad you could arrange that," replied
Mrs. Jennings, earnestly.

Jane could not help marveling at their almost
complete lack of business ability. Even she, who
had been saved every care by her indulgent father
and her loving Aunt Mary, knew enough about
business to realize that the extension of a note
was merely putting off the day of reckoning.
Yet these trusting folks seemed satisfied with
the delay!

A brief frolic with Joy and Jill, who had been
hanging about the long, low porch windows, com-
pleted Jane's visit. With the dignified, but
nevertheless sincere thanks of Mrs. Castbolt, and
the gleaming, glowing gratitude of Mrs. Jen-
nings heaped upon her, Jane Allen, the erst-
while Social Service student, wended her way
back to Wellington.

"I suppose it's all right," she was reflecting.
"So far, so good, and the details seem to take
care of themselves. I don't feel one bit as if
I were really important to the development of
the plan," she ruminated. "Bit by bit it just
unfolds and I act as a sort of messenger of Fate.
But," she reminded herself, "that, in itself, is an
important post to fill. If only I don't 'come a
cropper' with Carol Dare in the foreground."

278 JANE ALLEN:

Just where the car turned off into another
village and the students of Wellington took their
pretty, winding paths into the big grounds, Jane
found Judith waiting for her.

"I thought you were on that car," she said, "at
least I hoped so. Jane, what do you think? I
have found the most wonderful place for dear,
old grandpa."

"Good for you, Judy! You seem to have all
the luck," exclaimed Jane. "I wish I had gone

in for grandpas "

'You don't either, Janie, you are just tickled
to death with your own plans. And say!
After all, isn't it great to be a part of real affairs?
Can you imagine being content with the old-
time schedule now?"

"I can but I couldn't again," said Jane. "But
come along indoors. I am going to have tea at
the Inn. Can I tempt you?"

"Without half trying," Judith assured her.
"Next to miracles I like well brewed tea best."

It was over the tea cups the story of Judith's
success was unfolded. She met a man at the
office who had stopped in just to get a caretaker
for his place, and she had almost devoured him,
she was so glad of the chance to place Grandpa
Todd in that sort of position.

SENIOR 279

'With a nice, little house," she gurgled.
"And Jane, I have the most daring plan! I am
going to ask Carol Dare's mother, his own sister,
to keep house for him!" exclaimed the unlimited
Judith.

"Carol Dare's mother!" repeated Jane,
increduously.

"Exactly. Mrs. Stephen Smith, as nice a
little body as one would want to meet. She has
been knocking around, trying to keep up with the
pace her famous daughter has been setting.
You see, the daughter has only just flown from
the home nest, and it was the lure of the foot-
lights that did the damage," said Judith dryly.

"And you are not afraid to get further in-
volved in her plans? Haven't you had enough to
do with the Dare lady in your efforts to help
Grandpa Todd without tempting Fate further?"

"Not more than whetted my appetite," boasted
Judith. "You don't suppose that I care a fig
for a girl who sneaks around trying to undo
the things that sensible people are trying to do?
[Well, I don't, and you don't either. I notice
you put through your end of the case without
flinching," concluded Judith.

"And Mrs. Stephen Smith is going to set up
housekeeping for her brother, Silas Todd? Is

28o JANE ALLEN:

that it?" Jane asked. "I want to get this all
straightened out, and I have so many names in
my mind I might easily confuse them."

"You have it correct," replied Judith. "But
you should see Grandpa when I told him! The
poor, old dear! He was still afraid Carol Dare
would hustle him off to some institution," she
paused and looked Whimsically at Jane. "And I
have been saving the real gem of news until the
last," she said finally. "Are you sure you won't
have more tea?"

"No, this is the last. Go on with the thriller."

"Well, Carol Dare is engaged to marry the
young man you have seen out in the little runa-
bout with her," said Judith. "Her mother and
her uncle know all about it. She is not really as
bad a scout as she pretends to be. She has been
friendly with this youth since her precarious
school days, and her mother says she would not
possibly think of deceiving her on that score. Of
course Mrs. Smith has more faith in her daughter
than we have, but that's natural. Still I think
if Carol is engaged to this Mr. Scott our Renny is
comparatively safe."

"Queer how the report should get around,"
mused Jane, with a glimmer of relief. "But the
girls often get things twisted."

SENIOR

"Very often," agreed Judith. "Now Jane,
wasn't I a good girl to find out all of that? And
wasn't I the bestest girl ever to get Grandpa
Todd and his nice, prim knocked-about sister
reunited? He is safe, she is safe. I call that
good work," Judith flattered herself.

"Splendid," agreed Jane. "If only mine
turns out as well we may take our holidays in
peace."

"Oh, it will," declared Judith. "But I would
feel a lot better about it, Janie, if your rich, old
Mr. Webster said he would fix the Castbolts up
financially; I cannot see why he didn't."

CHAPTER XXIV

THE CONFESSION:

BUT we have families of our own to be
considered, Jude," Jane declared to her
chum a day or two later, "and my dear*
adorable dad is coming on for the holidays.
And wonder of wonders! ,We are both to visit
Mr. Reynolds Webster!"

"Oh!" said Judith softly. "And I am going
home!"

"But our big plans will be safely launched
before you leave," Jane consoled her chum.
'You see, Renny's school (just notice how
naturally I say "Renny") she parenthesized, "his
school closes one week before our's will. They
went to work a week earlier you remember."

"How does that help me?"

"Our original, handsome young man will be
here and installed in the big 'New Baird' before
you turn away," Jane was enthusing. "I may
as well admit, Jude, I am sorry you are not going
to be with me for Christmas, but I am awfully

282

JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 283

glad that dad is coming. Aunt Mary has sou ;ht
a warmer clime. Dear, little lady! She suffers
in our violent winters."

"So do I," said Judith, " 'specially when I am
worrying about new skates and there is no ice."

A call to class put an end to their talk and thus
the day wore on.

A rush of events followed. The Christmas
holidays 'brought festivities to college as well as
the better prospects at home, and into the plans
Jane and Judith plunged, laying aside all other
and outside considerations except Judith's boys.
They would be cheered <and feasted — Judith had
a competent committee helping her to that end —
but otherwise Social Service field work was held
in abeyance for the holidays. It was during a
confidential talk with Miss Morgan that Jane
learned Why she had been kept at the Castbolt
case. It was because her father, Mr. Henry
Allen, had asked the office to do him the favor
of keeping his daughter at that particular piece
of work to insure her absolute, personal safety
while she was serving an apprenticeship in her
selected course. Jane had not resented the
supervision when she heard of it. It was just
like her dad, and she said so. And after all, she
had found the piece of work exciting enough to

284 JANE ALLEN: (

furnish the variety a novice might naturally have
expected.

Nor had Judith been allowed to choose her
particular field undirected. Miss Morgan as-
sured Jane, who promptly told Judith, that the
reason why she had been given the truants to
"round up," was because she was so young, and
so impressionable, that the more sordid cases
were wisely withheld from contact with the
glowing, brilliant senior.

"You have both put in a splendid term at good
training," Miss Morgan told Jane, "and it will
be time enough for either of you to see real
poverty, and its unhappy details, when you are
postgraduates instead of happy grads."

"Cheated!" said Judith without the slightest
evidence of meaning it. "I love my boys —
but "

"You have had Grandpa," Jane reminded her.

"And I have him still," orated Judith, as if
she were declaiming. "Ye strangers on my
native sill!" etc., she chanted.

Wellington was in such a tangle of holly and
mistletoe that Dozia said it got in her soup, as
well as her stocking — that very long, dark green
article that was hung from the very middle of
the mantlepiece in the assembly room, when the

SENIOR 285

students were celebrating before leaving for their
homes. Callers were now coming and going,
and just now a caller came to Madison and asked
for Jane.

"Oh!" gasped Judith. "It must be he!"

And it was. Mattie said Mr. Reynolds Cast-
bolt was down in the parlor waiting.

"Come with me, Judy, please do," begged
Jane. "I shall faint and fall if you don't."

"I would do more than that to save an acci-
dent now," said Judith with comic reflection.
"I'll go if I have to," she assented, although she
would not have missed it for worlds.

The seniors were looking very pretty — the
festivities of the day painted pleasure on their
faces and lent them a special glow of yule-tide
expectancy, as they went into the conventional
parlor, there to meet the waiting caller.

But Christmas was with him as well, for he
seemed to fairly exhale the joyous season's in-
spiration, and it struck both girls instantly, that
this was a very different young man from him
whom they had met under the unusual circum-
stances, connected with the prom.

Greetings wrere exchanged, and then Mr.
Renny Castbolt in the simplest possible way ex-
tended both to Jane and Judith his mother's in-

286 JANE ALLEN:

vitation to spend a day with them if they were
going to be in the vicinity longer.

"I also wanted to come on my own account,"
he said a little awkwardly, "as I had a message
of my own to bring. You have done me a great
favor, Miss Allen," he said, "and I have already
put in one good day at Uncle Web's office. I
like it first rate, and I think he — will get used to
me in time," he ended.

'You are there already?'3 Jane betrayed her
eagerness in spite of her original intentions not
to do so.

"Yes ; I got off before I expected to and I lost
no time in keeping the uncle to his word," he
replied. "I care more about proving to him that
I am no — softie, than I actually do about obtain-
ing the employment. Not that I don't appreci-
ate that as well," said the young man hastily.
"But you know a fellow hates to be considered
a slacker in anything."

It was difficult for him to express exactly the
feeling he was struggling with, but both girls
understood him, and agreed silently, that he was
right in defying the uncle's adverse criticism.

Renny Castbolt was so very good looking!
Jane and Judith just wondered about the engage-
ment report, but of course, there was no possible

SENIOR 287

chance of even mentioning Miss Dare to him.

They talked of college sports; he was on the
football team and he enthused over the next
prospects at that sport.

"I hope after the holidays to have things
straightened out at home," he ventured, "then I
can finish up with colors, if not actually flying^
at least in the wind," he remarked dryly.

'We may see some of your games," said Jane.
"I don't think my friend and I will have to do
any more special work. We have covered the
famous two hundred hours field wrork allotted to

us.'

"That's fine," he said. "And, oh yes, the uncle
wished me to say that he would save his con-
tribution to your building fund for you if you
wished to call. You had better take him up on it.
No telling who else might run in and get it, you
know," concluded Renny Castbolt, with a boyish
smile.

'* We will be there tomorrow," declared Jane
promptly. "I would not have asked him for it,
but since he has offered we will be very glad to
get it. You see, my dad is coming to town, as
you may have heard, and Wellington expects one
to do wonders when the paters arrive."

"I hope you two girls will not book up all

288 JANE ALLEN:

your dates until I have a chance to look over
local events," Renny said politely. "I am free
now — no more special numbers after this."

Neither girl replied directly. Both were
secretly rejoicing in that implication. It meant,
that he was not going to do any more dancing
with Carol Dare!

When he was gone, a few minutes later, Jane
and Judith fell into each other's arms like two
high school girls. They were bubbling over with
merriment, and when Dozia, who was passing
along the hall as their caller left, accused them
of "holding out on her," they frankly admitted
they had received invitations from the very nice
young man, and Jane even went so far as to
say she would undoubtedly take advantage of,
at least, a few of the local holiday dances with
Renny Castbolt, as she wras going to visit his
uncle at Donnymead.

"And I have to go home," wailed Judith,

"Me too," lisped Dozia, regardlessly.

An exodus of students now swept through the
corridors continuously. If one didn't happen to
fall over a bag she was apt to take up the wrong
coat or muff, and what was missing in actual
calamity was readily supplied in girlish laughter
and merry greetings.

SENIOR 289

"If only that old note was not dangling over-
head like the proverbial sword," said Jane. "One
would think from the attitude of the Castbolt
family that it had been cancelled and the paper
burned, as they do it in churches after a cam-
paign," she murmured.

"I suppose the good looking Renny expects
to take care of it with his first week's salary,"
suggested Judith.

"His uncle stated, most particularly, that his
salary would be given in the regular pay en-
velope," said Jane. "But it was lovely of them
to send him down with the season's greetings, just
the same."

"I'm packing," interrupted her chum. 'You
run along and distribute the bounty to the hire-
lings, and when we are both through perhaps
you will come with me to pay a flying visit to my
dear friend, Grandpa Todd, and his sister, Mrs.
Stephen Smith. Norma told me I might take
her car so we won't be long going."

Packing is always the same- -trying to get too
many things in a given space — and Judith's pres-
ent experience did not differ from the usual.
But it was finally accomplished, as it always is,
and when Jane came back empty handed after
going out laden down with Christmas packages^

290 JANE ALLEN:

they started off in the trim little runabout, for
the cottage on the country estate of Mr. Todd's
latest benefactor.

Both girls were accustomed to driving cars,
although of late neither had given much time
to it, their field work being so much more effec-
tively done "by hand," as Jane termed the more
humble mode of getting about on foot or by
trolley.

"Back to civilization," she remarked as they
sped off.

"And glad of it," admitted Judith. "If my
boys ever glimpsed me in this car they would
never trust me again," she declared.

Jane was surprised to find Judith's "clients"
already comfortably established in the commo-
dious cottage, such as is usually given to general
caretakers. But no sooner had the visitors en-
tered than they realized there was trouble lurk-
ing behind closed doors in the cosy house.

Grandpa greeted them effusively, but even he
acted suspicious. Mrs. Smith was a gentle little
body who tried to act politely, but could not hide
her own nervousness. She rubbed her hands and
tied her apron, as if something highly important
depended upon the number of times she could
perform each of the seemingly useless acts.

SENIOR 291

The same thought flashed through the minds
of both girls. Carol Dare was there and she had
brought trouble with her.

"We are just getting settled," Mrs. Smith
said, "and the place is going to be very comfort-
able, I'm sure." She kept on fidgeting as she
talked.

"And I have the finest horses to 'tend," said
Grandpa Todd. "I can't thank you, young
ladies, for bringing me all this good fortune,"
he declared.

A slight cough sounded from the next room.

"My daughter came in to see me this after-
noon," said Mrs. Smith. "I'll tell her you are
here."

But there was no need to call her. Before
the mother ceased rubbing her nervous hands, or
attempted to lay one on the door knob, the portal
opened, and Carol Dare stepped forward.

Her eyes showed signs of weeping, and she
appeared quite unlike the vivacious dancer who
had so distinguished herself at the prom. No
one attempted to speak for a moment. The en-
trance had been almost dramatic. The young
woman looked from Jane to Judith, and then
tossed her black head to one side scornfully.

"I hope you two are satisfied," she began.

292 JANE ALLEN:

"Daughter!" interrupted Mrs. Smith, in a
shocked voice.

"Don't try to stop me, mother," the other con-
tinued. "I owe my failure entirely to these two
young women," she charged tragically.

"Your failure!" Jane could not refrain from
exclaiming.

"Yes. You were determined to block me and I
am good enough sport to know when I am beaten.
There," she exclaimed, tossing a slip of paper on
the table. 'There is Mabel Jennings' check for
two hundred dollars. If you care to take it to

her you will save me the great trouble of mail-

• *j_ »
ing it.

Even Grandpa Todd gasped. The paper was
really a check!

"It is all very simple," went on Carol Dare,
"but we may as well be civil enough to ask you
to be seated, while I tell the few necessary things
to clear the whole thing up."

Jane looked at Judith and by common consent
they accepted the chairs Mrs. Smith was indicat-
ing. Her daughter drew a small handkerchief
across her reddened eyes. She still looked strik-
ing— but how forlorn!

'I had no idea of keeping her money," she
began sharply, "but it was the only thing I could

SENIOR 293

do to get — the dancing partner I wanted."

"But what had Mrs. Jennings to do with that?"
asked Jane, recovering her composure.

"Nothing, neither did Mrs. Castbolt, but
Renny Castbolt did, and the only way I could
get him to accept engagements was to> force
necessity upon him."

No one seemed to understand.

"Still wondering?" she asked. "Well, can't
you see through a brick wrall? When I took that
money I put those people in a tight box. They
would either have to get money or lose their
place, and I knew the only way they could get
cash was through Renny Castbolt's dancing."
She was talking quickly now and her listeners
were beginning to understand.

"I gave him all we got — never kept a cent.
Even though I needed it," she declared. "All
I wanted was to get him to sign a contract. Oh,
you can't know what it means to have talent and
ambition and be a complete failure because there
is no good dancer to work with," she exclaimed.
"Renny Castbolt was a success from the first.
We could have made the best team on the circuit
and he had almost agreed. I showed him what de-
pended upon his money, and how foolish he would
be to stick to silly college stuff; but just when

294 JANE ALLEN:

he had engaged to take up the spring work with
me, and there was nothing left to do but for him
to sign the papers " She stopped.

Her mother made a motion as if to put an arm
around her. Grandpa Todd was stifling a cough.

"Let me alone, mother," she insisted. "You
know how hard I have worked to get to this
point. I even went after Uncle Todd and took
him away from your college " (this to Ju-
dith) "because I knew why you had him there.
But in spite of all — and I am no imitator if I
do say it — but what's the use? You have won.
Renny Castfbolt was here today and he brought
back the contract unsigned," she ended discon-
solately.

In spite of her duplicity, a wave of something
like pity touched the girls. She had talent and
she had ambition ; it was not easy for her to accept
her disappointment.

"But can't you get someone else?" Jane asked,
kindly.

"No, I shall never try again. I have put too
much into it now. It seems like fate," she
declared.

You are a very good secretary and you can
go back to your old position at any time," Mrs.
Smith managed to suggest.

SENIOR 295

"Don't talk of that," begged the daughter.
"I want time — to think."

"You both did dance beautifully," Judith felt
compelled to say, "but I can't see why this should
seem so tragic to you. There must be more
young men willing to dance at such prices as
have been offered you," she ventured.

"You don't understand," replied Carol.
"Dancing is not like any other art. It depends
solely upon inspiration. Renny Castbolt in-
vented his dances. You know there is theatrical
talent all through the family," she stated, criti-
cally.

"Well," she sighed, "it's over. I am glad not
to have to take it to bed with me another night.
I hardly knew what I was doing when I went into
the plot. It was not originated by me, but there
is no use implicating any other," she declared.
"No, mother, Jack had nothing to do with it. He
doesn't even know anything about it if that is
What you are thinking of," she suddenly digressed.

"Jack is the young man she is engaged to,"
Mrs. Smith politely explained. "I am glad he
had nothing to do with it. It is too disgrace-
ful " She was threatened with tears but Jane

promptly reassured her.

"This check will be in time, after all, to

296 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

off the troublesome note," she said. "So let us
not make too much of a tragedy of the affair."

"Tragedy!" exclaimed the other young woman.
"When Renny Castbolt decided to go into an
old poky office with an irate uncle, the most tragic
thing occurred then!"

"She'll be gettin' married," put in Grandpa,
"and I tell you the man that gets her won't have
to worry about his housekeeping either," he
added.

There seemed little more to say. The Well-
ington girls were now standing ready to leave.

"Don't worry too much," soothed Jane. "We
all wish things could be adjusted without these
heartbreaks, don't we?"

"But they can't," concluded Carol Dare,
sadly.

CHAPTER XXV

SATISFACTION GUARANTEED

EVEN the reverend seniors are not im-
mune from excitement, and the morning
following Carol Dare's disclosures, found
Jane and Judith feeling as if they had crawled
through a proverbial knothole. While dressing
they continued to comment upon the surprising
developments.

"Of course," said Judith, "it was the dancing
engagement that the girls had mixed up with
the matrimonial market."

"Yes ; that's clear enough now," assented Jane,
"and I suspicioned it all along. But Judy, do
you realize what a day we have before us? Holi-
days are fun, but they do get awfully cluttered
up, even in the preamble."

"By agreeing with you first hand I'll save
time," said Judith, "and time today will be more
time tomorrow. There! Am I not improving
in logic?" she wanted to know.

All of which counted in the hours following.

297

298 JANE ALLEN:

Jane decided she would save time by running
into Mr. Webster's office when she was near
there attending to some urgent gift arrange-
ments ; especially did she have to go into Snyder's
to see if her dad's pipe had been correctly marked.

Judith had a few more pairs of stockings to
purchase for her boys. She was trying to give
them stockings and mittens, feeling those gifts
would mean most to the youngsters during the
holidays, when there would be, it was hoped, good
skating and some snow balling to attend to.

The air was crisp and snappy, ideal for the
season, and when Jane reached the Four Corners
near the New Baird building, and in the shopping
district, she was surprised to find what numbers
of persons were out so early and with such busi-
nesslike intent. The city appeared more popu-
lous than she had counted it.

"I hope the good old uncle gives me a nice
check for our building fund," she prompted in-
spiration. "We need at least two new dorms for
next year."

Up in the elevator and then over to the glass
!door marked with Mr. Webster's firm's title, she
hurried. Pushing open the first door she noticed
no boy was there to usher her into the private
office.

SENIOR 299

Delaying just a moment, she then went in
unannounced.

What confusion she found that office in! Mr.
Webster was rummaging through papers all
about his big desk, the private secretary was
doing the same thing with files, the office boy
was on his knees pulling cardboard files apart,
and even an extra girl from the general office was
searching in the storage drawers. Papers were
literally flying about.

"Good morning " but even the greeting

seemed so inopportune she would have withdrawn
it the moment it was uttered.

"Oh, I'm glad you came," spoke Mr. Webster
without offering so much as a civil smile. "We
are in trouble here, and perhaps you can help

us.'

"If I can — of course "

Ml

'The fact is one of my most important foreign
bonds has disappeared, and there is absolutely
no clue to its — hiding place," he finished with
a suspicious inflection.

"I had it " interrupted the girl known to

Jane from her previous visit. "I know I had it,"
she insisted, "and I went to the telephone to

answer "

"That's one of the troubles, at least," fired

300 JANE ALLEN:

back her employer, "you spend so much time
answering private telephones, you have no time
for business. I want it understood now, right
here, that none of my employees are to bring
their personal affairs into this office hereafter."
His voice thundered, Jane quaked as it roared,
and the girl accused cast a piteous glance into
Jane's surprised face.

"I'll be back in a moment," said Mr. Webster
with a poor attempt at apology for keeping Jane
waiting. "I feel the need to talk secretly over
the 'phones in my own office until this is cleared
up," and he dashed out with his long coat
tails flying after him, and the strewn papers
fluttering in the breeze and trying to fly along
with it.

"Oh, Miss Allen," sdbbed the secretary when
she and Jane were alone, "it is my fault. I knew
the importance of that bond, but a friend, Miss
Dare, 'phoned me. She has been in trouble and

I have been trying to help her "

'Yes?'" encouraged Jane.

"I did wrong ever to promise her help. You
see, she wanted me to let her know what was
going on here regarding her — dancing partner."

Jane understood now why this girl showed
such keen interest in the first conversation she

SENIOR 301

and Mr. Webster injudiciously attempted to hold
in her presence.

"I did not actually do anything wrong- -that is,
I hope I didn't," continued the distressed girl,
"but there was no one here except Mr. Castbolt
when "

She had not time to finish the sentence for Mr.
Webster was back again, his face more flushed
and his hair more rumpled.

"You, young lady, may clear out for a mo-
ment," he said brusquely. "I'll have a word with
Miss Allen." This last w^as said in a way that
included "If she will favor me," so, perhaps, he
was not such a bear as he had been pretending
to be.

The frightened girl cast a pleading look Jane's
way as she went out, and Mr. Webster brushed
papers from a chair upon which Jane seated her-
self unceremoniously.

"I wouldn't care a hang for the bond, money
or no money," began Mr. Webster, "but it hap-
pened the very first day — my nephew was here,"
he faltered, dropping his voice to almost a
whisper.

"Oh, Mr. Webster!" interrupted Jane.
"Please don't iiirow suspicion upon him! I would
swear by his honesty!" she declared, impulsively.

302 JANE ALLEN:

"And I want to," replied the uncle promptly.
"There never was a dishonest member of the
tribe. But the point is this. That note has just
been cancelled on the old house." Again the
lowered voice.

"It has?" exclaimed Jane.

"Yes. I sent in to pay it off myself — always
intended to do it, but it is a part of my character
to let folks understand their own troubles. I
never slap money upon a financial wound with-
out first — dressing it up, you know." He was
still fumbling with the scattered papers and was
still very much excited. 'Well, I found the debt
paid by order, and the papers withheld — for a
short time, they put it ; but you know, as well as
I do, that no straightforward business is done in
that way."

Jane was too surprised to reply. She just sat
there, staring.

"Now, don't misunderstand me," continued
the man with the rumpled gray hair. "I do not
mean to infer that my nephew would take that
bond with the intention of keeping it, but the
note coming due — I was watching the time — and
his salary a week off; well, it is just possible he
could reason things out that way," rambled Mr.
Webster.

SENIOR 303

"He couldn't," declared Jane loyally. "Renny
Castbolt is not that kind of man."

"Glad to hear you say so! I wouldn't mind
you calling me names if you had that talent,"
lie said with a flash of humor returning. "But
where is that bond?"

Jane jumped up and laid her hand on his arm.
"Please promise me this," she begged. "Don't
cast any suspicion, not the slightest suspicion,
upon Mr. Castbolt until there is nothing else
left to do."

"Exactly! Sound and square!" replied the
financier. "I'll gladly agree to that and no ques-
tions asked. This being holiday time and all
that, I would lay the pesky thing aside, but you
see the examiners for those foreign bonds chose
this time to come in and look things over; and
you know the bonds must run straight through
the series."

"Does Mr. Castfbolt know the bond is miss-
ing?" asked Jane.

"Oh, yes. We began our search last evening,"
replied Mr. Webster. "But I didn't know then
about this debt being cancelled. They sent me
in word when my young man went to pay it,"
he explained. "Kenny's so proud," went on the
uncle, "and young fellows have such elastic ideas

3Q4 JANE ALLEN:

about strict business principles. I would never
think of even connecting these two facts, if I
could find out who paid off the note/' he finished
abruptly, thereby showing his great reluctance to
coupling his nephew's name with the loss of the
bond.

"Perhaps I can find out something about it,"
said Jane, on her feet now and ready to leave.
"I have been trying to advise, in my inexperi-
enced way," she apologized, "and I am sure Mrs.
Castbolt will not mind giving me further con-
fidence. In the meantime, Mr. Webster, keep
suspicion away from your nephew. He is proud,
and I am sure a breath of it would drive him
from splendid opportunity."

"Right there," commented Mr. Webster
sharply.

"And dad came to the city yesterday, and will
be out here tlhis morning," said Jane anxiously.
"Perhaps a sight of him may bring — inspiration,"
she almost sighed.

"Never expected to have business worries
around me like this when he arrived," grumbled
the old friend. "Let's hope they will be all
cleared up. I'm counting on a good time when
Henry Allen comes," he said heartily.

There seemed nothing else to say and Jane

SENIOR 305

prepared to leave. As she stepped to the door
it was opened and Mr. Castbolt entered.

"Find it?" he asked breathlessly.

"Not yet," answered his uncle. Then seeing
Jane, Mr. Castbolt forced a smile upon his
greeting.

"Some upset," he said, "but papers are often
elusive — the very best of them. Uncle, I heard
a gentleman asking for you at the station, but
I didn't wait to see who he might be."

"Oh, that must be dad!" exclaimed Jane.
"Listen! There! I hear him outside. That's
he inquiring "

The voice outside presently developed into the
personality of a big, lusty, genial gentleman, all
the way from Montana. He stood before them.

"Dad!" shouted Jane.

"Hello girl!" called out the big man.

"Hello there yourself, Henry Allen!" chimed
in Mr. Webster, insisting upon an immediate
handshake.

"Well, I'll be jiggered, Ren Webster! Good
old Webbie!" boomed the man from the West,
grasping his friend's hand heartily.

Jane was simply gasping. "Of all the sur-
prises "

"I'd have been here before, but I stopped to

306 JANE ALLEN:

attend to a little errand. Hope I did'nt break
any of your rules," he said to Jane, "but I
thought I'd like to fetch you a little surprise.
Don't let Web see it," he cautioned aside, "but
here's a slip of paper you might like to give to
your friends. I don't see why an old fellow like
me couldn't get a whack at your precious Social
Service," he chuckled.

Jane glanced at the paper. It was the can-
celled note on the Castbolt Homestead!

"Thanks," she said simply, devouring her
father's face with her grateful, gray eyes, and
hiding the paper from the possible gaze of young
Renny. "This is lovely, Dad. I'll distribute it
this very morning. I have something else, like
it, to go to the same house."

'That's fine," returned her father proudly,
although he could not know that Jane was refer-
ring to the check given her by Carol Dare and
which was also to go to the fortunate Castbolts.

Renny was introduced, and during the actual
process the little blonde secretary burst in with
another piece of paper.

"I thought you wouldn't mind the interrup-
tion," she said to Mr. Webster, beaming witli
delight.

"I don't," snapped her employer, grabbing the

SENIOR 307

paper from her hand at the same moment. It
was the missing bond!

"Where?" asked Renny, breathing quickly.

"In that box you suspected," replied the secre-
tary dimpling. She was pretty — Jane noticed it
just then.

"Now we are all set!" called out the host, with-
out succeeding in disguising the relief in his
voice. "Renny, we'll only attend to personal
matters today. Don't mind the interruption
Henry," to Mr. Allen, who was just about bounc-
ing Jane up and down in his one armed embrace.
"You see, we were a little upset — lost something.
Ren, suppose you just go out and fix up that
little affair of your mother's."

Jane looked from one to the other, then shook
a feeble finger at her dad.

"He went and done it," she said with charming
naivete. "He didn't know any better and we
shall have to forgive him." She produced the
cancelled note and held it up to Mr. Webster.

"You paid that, when?" demanded the sur-
prised gentleman.

"Late yesterday afternoon," confessed the
visitor. "Couldn't come out to see my Janie
without helping her a bit with her good work.
Sorry Web, I know this strikes home, but we'll

308 JANE ALLEN:

fix it all right, you and I," he nodded under,
standingly, while his old friend took up the same
sort of nod and went on with it. They under-
stood.

"But I intend to attend to that myself —

"Hush," whispered Jane to Renny, checking
his sentence unfinished. "Don't spoil Jt. Let
them have their — fun," and she smiled her under-
standing until the young man's countenance
relaxed.

Then he smiled down at her, and she felt
small — he was so tall and so protective. The
two old friends were talking eagerly over near
the window, and the young folks — well, they
were not saying much just then.

The air was tingling with interest, and Jane
must have been very happy; for again "youth
will be served."

They met Judith at the department store and
picked her up, that is they allowed her to jump
in, for she was so alert the first insinuation would
do her a distinct injustice.

'What a lark!" she greeted them. "I am just
ready for it too ! If I ever buy another pair of
mittens I hope I have a dummy hand along.

They are the awfulest I don't suppose you

know anything about hand sizes," she said to

SENIOR 309

Renny. "And what's more, you don't care.
Neither do I now. Jane, your face is illumined,
what's new?"

"Dad!" said Jane simply.

"Come!" exclaimed Judith.

"Eating a second breakfast with Mr. Webster
right now," replied Jane, as the car swung off

again.

"And you really are going home, Miss
Stearns?" Renny lamented. 'That's a shame.
I'm going to prod the recalcitrant uncle into giv-
ing a holiday dance."

"Lovely!" said Judith. "But my usual luck."

"She and her friend Mr. Blair have a skating
hike planned — up in Canada, you know," said
Jane.

"Fine! Mason Blair?" asked Renny.

"My own darling Toots," replied the incorri-
gible Judith, falling over Jane, who in her turn
jolted the amused driver.

"Get back as early as you can," he suggested.
"There's bound to be fun going on this season."

A few minutes later it was a happy gathering
that attempted to talk things over at the Cast-
bolt cottage. But the attempt was not very
successful, for there were the babies climbing
up on Jane and Judith, there was Renny hugging

310 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR

his mother right before everyone, and there was
Mrs. Jennings shouting her lungs out that
Grandpa Todd had been over to tell them that
Carol Dare was going to be married on Christmas
eve!

Was there anything else to be settled? If
so it will have to be told in the next volume of
this series to be entitled: Jane Allen: Graduate.

THE END

THE RUTH FIELDING SERIES

By ALICE B. EMERSON

ismo. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors.

Price 50 cents per volume.
Postage 10 cents additional.

Ruth Fielding was an orphan and came
to live with her miserly uncle. Her adven-
tures and travels make stories that will hold
the interest of every reader.

Ruth Fielding is a character that will live
in juvenile fiction.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

RUTH

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

FIELDING

OF THE RED MILL

AT BRIARWOOD HALL

AT SNOW CAMP

AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT

AT SILVER RANCH

ON CLIFF ISLAND

AT SUNRISE FARM

AND THE GYPSIES

IN MOVING PICTURES

DOWN IN DIXIE

AT COLLEGE

IN THE SADDLE

IN THE RED CROSS

AT THE WAR FRONT

HOMEWARD BOUND

DOWN EAST

IN THE GREAT NORTHWEST

ON THE ST. LAWRENCE

TREASURE HUNTING

IN THE FAR NORTH

AT GOLDEN PASS

IN ALASKA

AND HER GREAT SCENARIO

AT CAMERON HALL

CLEARING HER NAME

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

THE LINGER-NOT SERIES

By AGNES MILLER

I2mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors.
Price per volume, 50 cents. Postage 10 cents additional.

TfeLlNGER-NOTS

and the

MYSTERY HOUSE

This new series of girls' books is in a new
style of story writing. The interest is in
knowing the girls and seeing them solve the
problems that develop their character. Inci-
dentally, a great deal of historical informa-
tion is imparted.

1. THE LINGER=NOTS AND THE
MYSTERY HOUSE

or The Story of Nine Adventur-
ous Girls

How the Linger-Not girls met and formed
their club seems commonplace, but this
writer makes it fascinating, and how they

made their club serve a great purpose continues the interest to

the end, and introduces a new type of girlhood.

2. THE LINGER=NOTS AND THE VALLEY FEUD

or the Great West Point Chain

The Linger-Not girls had no thought of becoming mixed up with
feuds or mysteries, but their habit of being useful soon entangled
them in some surprising adventures that turned out happily for all,
and made the valley better because of their visit.

3. THE LINGER=NOTS AND THEIR GOLDEN QUEST

or The Log of the Ocean Monarch

For a club of girls to become involved in a mystery leading back
into the times of the California gold-rush, seems unnatural until
the reader sees how it happened, and how the girls helped one of
their friends to come into her rightful name and inheritance, forms
a fine story.

4. THE LINGER=NOTS AND THE WHISPERING

CHARM

or The Secret from Old Alaska

Whether engrossed in thrilling adventures in the Far North or
occupied with quiet home duties, the Linger-Not girls could work
unitedly to solve a colorful mystery in a way that interpreted
American freedom to a sad young stranger, and brought happiness
to her and to themselves.

Send for Our Free Illustrated Catalogue.

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York

JUL S 1948